Past and Present Situations
by BrokenNevermore
Summary: A look into the everyday life of Raven and Gar, their relationship, their interactions, and their struggles. It only goes to show that change is the only constant. BBxRae
1. Session 1

**A/N**: Why oh why dear god am I back here doing this AGAIN? I swear, it's like I'm addicted or something. Well, I hope you enjoy it anyways, even if I'm a little out of practice.

_Session 1_

He was a sly one she had to admit.

Garfield Logan, that skinny-assed good for nothing who called himself Beast Boy, had turned out to be more of an emotional rollercoaster than she had originally expected. Yes, she knew he was immature, egotistical, and too brave for his own good when it came to pestering demon spawn, but that was only the beginning. After watching him shove a spoon of tofu up his nostrils (_that_ had been disgusting) just to see if it was physically possible, well it was hard to replace that flattering image of Garfield with anything else.

Then there was the poking and the never ending assault of bad knock knock jokes which, as he hit puberty, slowly progressed into dirty jokes that had everyone blushing and groaning except him and Starfire (bless that girl and her innocence). She had watched him decapitate, maul, slash, and completely incinerate hundreds of thousands of zombies and other undead creatures which gave her further reason to believe that the child had somehow miraculously been born without a brain and lived, or had sacrificed it to the Gamestation long ago.

He was crude, scratching areas that should not be scratched in the company of anyone, belching loudly, wiping food on his shirt when napkins were out of reach; all of his mannerisms were a mother's worst nightmare. In the morning she could be sure to see him come stumbling out into the mainroom like some blind drunk that just happened to wander inside off the streets. And once alert he would march into the kitchen, hair sticking out wildly, sweatpants slipping off his lanky frame to reveal a green buttcheek, and sentences reduced to nothing but guttural grunts.

He was inconsiderate and slow, throwing out something along the lines of "gee Raven, you're looking a little plumper than usual" and then wondering how the hell he got himself tied to the ceiling fan with his head stuck in a lampshade. It was as if some being had taken everything she hated in a person and combined it all in one neat little green package that ended up on her doorstep.

Now it wouldn't have been so terrible if he just completely avoided her and refused to acknowledge her existence, but unfortunately for her and often for the other team members that had to deal with her merciless wrath and destructive path of doom, he chose to not only interact with Raven but to do it on a regular basis. It was almost like a routine, like brushing one's teeth. She could expect him to come slinking over at least once every day almost like the way she could expect the sun to rise in the morning and set in the evening.

Then there would be the briefest flash of civil conversation, followed by some stupid comment or observation from the hapless changeling which would then be followed by the pulsing vein and trembling hands of an offended empath. If he pushed her hard enough those trembling hands might wind up around his neck, but because Gar like breathing and wanted to keep breathing he more often than not would ease off or at least settle further away from the trembling hands in hopes of diminishing his punishment to another ride on the ceiling fan or maybe a good hard, face to face meeting with the wall.

"I swear Rae, that wall's looking more and more like me everyday." He joked with her once.

But she had to admit that there was a balance between them, however delicate it was, and if she needed to throw him around a bit to keep it stable then she was more than happy to comply. However, she was only responsible for one end of their teetering relationship, and it was not long before she realized that she had absolutely no power over the end he controlled. Sure she could adjust her actions in response to his but there were times when something would happen that she could not counter and then that delicate, teetering thing that existed between then would pitch and roll dangerously.

It was always subtle, always unpredictable right up to the moment it happened. Stupid things that should have been nothing but unimportant words or actions would expand and explode into memories that would leave her disoriented and stunned. It was wrong, wrong, wrong she thought, because he was Garfield Logan, Beast Boy, the not so puny (when had he gotten so tall?) young man who kept her life remarkably unstable.

---

They were 19 now. It had been a long time to spend together, a long time to watch each other grow and change and yet still stay so reassuringly familiar. Raven was pleased to know that she could still see the same old faces in all of her friends that she had known in the beginning.

But an alien-ness still crept up on her sometimes, usually when she was unfocused or spacey. And then she would look at one of her teammates and think, I do not know this person, because the features would be too pronounced and the perspective would look too skewed and it threw her off sometimes to catch the effects of time on her friends. She had changed too she knew, but it had seemed much less noticeable to her own eyes.

It was Gar who won the most stunning transformation award in her mind, no pun intended. He just had this most disturbing ability to go from boy to man in the flicker of a second. He would be Beast Boy sometimes, lying upside down on the sofa talking nonsense to her about how he got beat up by a shoe salesman once after trying on a pair of stilettos and breaking the heel off it, and she would snort and call him all kinds of synonyms for the word moron. Then in the time it took her to blink he would be Garfield Logan, nothing less than a man standing before her, all glistening boyish mischief gone from his eyes, his stance radiating something solid and almost frighteningly powerful.

It was at those times Raven felt she was with a stranger, some being who lived, ate and slept in the same home but that she didn't know or understand in the least. This person was older, smarter, more intimidating in a way she couldn't explain, and it kept her silent and edgy.

He also had the uncanny ability to take whatever it was that defined Beast Boy and fit it into a behavior that unsettled Raven deeply. It was the same pestering, teasing, and funpoking but somehow made to fit the personality of Garfield Logan and she found that it was usually this type of banter that set off the delicate balance she worked so hard to maintain. It harbored something deeper, something slippery and quick that flashed through her mind faster than she could grasp it.

One of the earliest incidences Raven had experience had occurred during dinnertime once. Gar had been happily playing with his pasta, twirling, slurping, and acting like a two year old about it all, when Raven had snapped and told him to cut it out and wipe the sauce off his chin. Then it had happened, right before her eyes he became the stranger, setting down his fork under her glaring supervision before reaching up to wipe his face. Staring down at his place he took his thumb and using the pad, slowly brushed the smudge off the skin right below his lip. She stared entranced as his pink tongue poked out between his lips to lick it off the digit and it was at that moment he looked up to meet her gaze directly.

It happened. It just happened right then and there across the dinner table, sending a shiver up her spine so hard she had to feign dropping her napkin just so she could duck under the table while the pink heat dusted her cheeks.

He was terrifyingly unpredictable, this alien Gar in a way that no throwing and bashing could counter. And perhaps it was this knowledge, the knowledge that strength and violence had no value in the game he was playing, that shook her more than anything. What could she possible do when he might just casually brush his fingers down her forearm, or seemingly unconsciously lean too close to her when he spoke?

Everything he did that made her stomach twist strangely was always done with such suddenness and casualness that Raven found herself unable to retaliate in the usual manner of mauling and manhandling. She felt helplessness grip her, some foreign force taking over her body and making it respond in all the wrong ways. Where was the sharp slap, the quick wit, the silver tongue? It was rendered useless under involuntary shudders and blushes and wide-eyed stares that left Raven doubting herself for some senseless school girl.

After all it was just Gar, the same guy she had spent 6 years of her life with, the same guy she had bickered with, ate with, dealt with day after tormenting day. So then why, oh why Azar did her skin become gooseflesh whenever they brushed arms? Was she cold or maybe just unfamiliar with human touch? Raven kept hearing a certain drawl in his voice that told her no, it wasn't just her imagination, there was some strange static energy that made her hair stand on end and he was most certainly and most deliberately giving it off.

---

"Hey Rae." He breathed, the air barely brushing the back of her neck, making those tiny sensitive hairs quiver. "You were snoring again." She had been sleeping on the sofa, flat on her stomach, arm hanging off the edge of the cushions and face buried in the crook of her other arm. He hadn't needed to speak to wake her. Just sensing his presence so close had automatically set her off like a car alarm, but now after removing her face from the soft, warm shelter her arm created and looking up, Raven found him terrifyingly close. She made a kind of groggy, growling noise somewhere in her throat, still waiting for her sleep filled brain to catch up, impatiently waiting for it to realize that he was kneeling right next to her.

"Dinner's ready and Cy wanted me to wake you. Although," he chuckled faintly ," if I were you I'd just go back to sleep. Star's cooking for us tonight."

She saw the glimmer in his eyes, watched the way his eyebrows slid smoothly up and down with each passing sentence, and it was all very fascinating for no apparent reason.

"Rae hun, you look like you've joined the legion of the undead." Undead? The legion? What was he blathering about? Wait a minute… he called me hun, she thought faintly. He was laughing again, either at his own joke or maybe her slack expression, but either way she was so warm and comfortable at the moment with her mind still firmly wrapped in sleep and for just a second she found his laugh a pleasant sound.

Then it snapped. "Whyayou laughin' twit?"She slurred. This only caused him to grin further.

"Dunno. I just feel like it."

It was so typical of him to keep her guessing like that, but she would never let him know it drove her insane. He'd laugh for no reason, shoot her a wink, a smile, all of them completely worthless gestures that had her looking for a some sign of sanity in his eyes. But when she did bother to actually stop and look, it always appeared as if he were the more sane between the two of them.

Her lips tightened in a frown. "Go to hell." Much to her annoyance he chuckled again, a warm rich sound much different from his usual snickerings. She barely noticed the soft pressure right below her shoulder blades- barely, but she did notice. Something was there making light circles on her back, nice warm lazy circles going around and around on her skin. Raven looked at him thoroughly surprised and shaken by his actions.

He must have noticed her expression. She knew it was written all over her flushed face, but he kept on tracing those damn lazy circles on her back like he had a right to do so and giving her a grin that told Raven he knew exactly what buttons he was pushing. She shivered, once, twice, and managed to squash the third one threatening to ripple up her spine but her body still hummed like a tuning fork.

"Garfield." She meant it to be a warning tone, a don't-fucking-touch-me tone, or at least something that sounded more convincingly dark and dangerous. But her mouth spoke it with a child's tongue, soft, scared, and woefully hesitant. The sound of a timid girl, slowly losing her ground on an unstable platform.

His Cheshire face grinned down at her, as if to say "See! See! I've found a way in!". He was a general gloating over the success of the battle. A battle that Raven hadn't even realized was being waged until she had lost. And now she was paralyzed, mesmerized by the grin and the finger going round and round and round between her shoulders with a soft intensity that felt like 100 tons on her back. She couldn't move, no, she didn't want to move.

He leaned down slowly so his mouth was by her ear, hot breath hitting the acoustic shell in small burst as he spoke. "See you at dinner." That was the message and it shook every cell in her body and in response they shook with nervousness and apprehension. Then the boy with the whispering hot breath and the lazy wandering finger was gone. Her lungs exhaled.

It was Fall, glorious, glorious Fall and the leaves on the trees were- well- falling. In fact everything lately seemed to be falling- falling out of Raven hands unexpectedly or falling off shelves with dark halos around them. She felt like a bundle of nerves. And as the wind howled painfully outside the tower walls and leaves of the trees glowed with the last light of the dying sun, Raven meditated with an unprecedented ferocity on the observatory deck.

She had turned down dinner with a wave of her hand and nobody said anything about it because of the unspoken rule. Everyone but Garfield viewed her actions as nothing more than "just a Raven thing". Part of her resented that, the other half secretly coveted it. She could be as damn enigmatic as she pleased without having to explain herself and often got away with acting like a complete asshole just because she was Raven, and Raven did those things. Did they think it was ingrained into her DNA? That her voice was naturally sarcastic and her heart genetically cold and uncaring?

A fuse exploded somewhere in the circuitry above her, killing the lights.

Well damn them and their theories. Raven's a little off today, Raven's not feeling well, Raven doesn't feel like coming out of her room today, Raven this and Raven that, Raven will tear your fucking head off because she feels like it.

There was a crack and bits of ceiling plaster rained down. She felt the little pieces in her hair and on her legs.

They were all probably sitting there choking down Starfire's cooking with a fake smile and thinking about how it was that Raven got to be so lucky, because if it had been anyone but her to walk out on dinner Starfire would've been in tears for a week. She felt like a petulant child without limits and hated herself for it. And why, she wondered, was it so acceptable for her act in such a manner?

_Fear_, whispered her mind. _They fear you_. And alas, she knew it was true, because nobody told a demon to just "shut the hell up and behave" without knowing damn well those were probably their last words.

There was Garfield though, but then again he was never exactly a master of intellect and common sense. He threw fingers, and made fuss when she 'wasn't feeling well', as if to say to the rest of them "don't you see what a complete jerk she's being!" And they all knew that it was true and they all ignored him because they did have some intellect and common sense swirling around in their heads.

Maybe that's why he got to her. He alone was the one person who dared to peel back the flowery wallpaper and expose the ugly truth underneath it, and while nobody liked to see it he still insisted with an intensity that was, at times, blinding. Fool. He was getting his hands dirty digging up all the muck underneath that pristine covering. Didn't those animal senses tell him not to stick his head in places where it was likely to get bitten off?

And now he was venturing farther. Treating her like a person with emotions that reached beyond anger and sarcasm! Hadn't the others told him about the cold heart she had been born with? About how genetics had made her a monster of social inadequacies?

Her hands were shaking now, threatening to clench themselves into fists. She remembered how he had dared to whisper in her ear, to go so far as to touch her with softness like he wanted to wake her with the utmost care.

The liar he is! The manipulative moron!

Breaking her down by building up something strange in her chest- something that was barely alive and weak with human qualities. More plaster fell like rain onto her shoulders and the crown of her head.

And now she couldn't think without feeling those lazy circles tracing themselves on the skin of her shoulders! Her eyes squeezed even further shut and the hands she had been shakily trying to control finally brought themselves into fists. She heard the footsteps as she floated there, head bent, fisted hands pressed firmly to her aching eyes.

"Raven?" Softly, very softly calling into the darkness. The steps came closer.

"Raven are…are you not feeling well?" The catch in that voice made her body tremble then still with a sudden resolve.

"No, Star I am not feeling well." The prescence faded without even a lingering sigh or footstep so that Raven wondered if she had ever been there at all

_End Session 1_

Feedback is always appreciated, so bring on the criticism. No seriously.


	2. Session 2

**A/N:** Well I must have been away for longer than I thought, because I have to admit that things have slowed down a little. Okay. Fine. So maybe I'm whining a little about lack of reviews... But I send my thanks out to everyone who did (and they were awesome reviews, thanks guys!). So um, the rest of you pansies, follow their example! Other than that, I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I am (however plotless and pointless in may seem...).

_Session #2_

It hadn't been a good night.

She had gone to bed hungry and emotionally drained, and now with morning upon her, kindly shining itself into her squinting eyes, Raven realized that neither of those issues had resolved themselves. She was still hungry and still dreading any social contact with the outside world. It was a terrible combination of feelings mainly because the fridge was located in the kitchen and so that meant she had to leave her room and deal with whatever the hell lived outside it.

Which she was not prepared to do.

But damn it all, she was hungry.

She rolled off her stomach and onto her back, feeling the emptiness in her gut become even more pronounced. The amount of light streaming into her room told her it was fairly well into morning and, well, now that she thought about it, Raven swore she smelled bacon. But then again, maybe it was the hunger. Crinkling her nose, Raven rolled back over again, burying her face in the folds of the sheets and inhaling the smell of clean laundry.

Perhaps she would turn this into a week long retreat from the world. That was tempting too. Almost more tempting than bacon. And they wouldn't miss her much anyways. She thought about it for a bit, while her body hovered in the dazed state between sleep and awareness.

The first thing she had done after they had handed her a communicator, a plaque with her name on it and an empty room, was to take full advantage of that new room by locking herself in it for a week. She remembered how they had come first individually knocking at her brand new door, asking her to come out and eat or talk or do whatever the hell she pleased just so long as she came out. And she always responded with the lonely syllable of 'no'.

Then they came in groups- loud banging groups- telling her that it had been days! days! and there must be something wrong, something they can do to make it better! And Raven had given them the same answer. By the end of the week after all the shouting and pleading and death threats had been exhausted, they had just given up and suddenly 'locking herself up for no particular reason for as long as she pleases' was graciously added to the list of things that Raven does. They didn't even flinch when she came strolling into the common room 8 days later.

She had trained them well. Numbed them up real good so they didn't care what she did or what she said, just so long as they could chalk it up to another Raven thing.

She sighed into her sheets. Maybe she was becoming too predictable. She could give Garfield a good verbal lashing and no one would so much as blink an eye at the entire display, but give Gar a compliment… that would throw them for a loop.

She heard the sounds of someone approaching, and found herself listening very carefully to their movements as they came down the hall. The person was walking, not quickly but at a relaxed pace. Long strides, heavy footsteps. Raven found herself tense for no apparent reason as the person neared her door. Neared it… and passed with the sounds echoing further and further away from her ears.

Something in her empty stomach dropped like a stone and she gripped the sheets tightly in her hands. They hadn't knocked. They hadn't even paused for a second outside her door. Did they even look at her name engraved on the metal as they walked by? Or did they just pass her door like it was nothing but another panel of cold titanium?

Raven lay there wondering and hating herself for caring at all. Because maybe secretly deep down inside she wanted to become nothing but a ghost, another part of the Titan Tower scenery. After all, she had worked so hard to make it that way- to turn herself into Raven, the thing that acted as it pleased, the thing everybody knew so well because it did the same thing the same way everyday.

She was a person damnit!

Not a machine with a personality hardwired into her brain. Her emotions and feelings swayed and changed, so what gave them the right to treat her like a constant in their lives? Frustrated and hungry, Raven wretched herself from bed, threw on a sweater over her tank top, and marched herself out the door, down the hallway and into the common room of Titan's Tower.

They were all there, chatting, eating, and generally having a good time without her, as usual. Starfire glanced up from the table, smiled and returned to her leftovers. There were a few muttered good mornings, all done half-assed without any real thought behind them, and maybe that's what got the ball rolling because the next moment Raven's finger was up and her mouth was open ready to tell them all exactly what she was thinking and feeling. The words came boiling out of the depths of her gut, rushed up her throat, then ended up in a train wreck of syllables in her mouth as she was caught by surprise.

"Good morning Rae!" She choked, her mouth full of unspoken words all tangled up in themselves with nowhere to go.

"Garfield?!" She managed to sputter, turning to face the person at her shoulder.

"Raven!" He shouted throwing up his hands and giving her a ridiculous grin fit for a cheerleader.

"Garfield!"

"Rae!"

"Gar!"

"You called?" He asked her with a sly smile. She reddened, drowning in the heat of her anger and her embarrassment and feeling generally upset with the way her morning was going.

"Insensitive bastard!" She seethed. His expression faltered, slowly sliding into one of confusion. The poor boy. How was he to know about the important moment he had so ungraciously interrupted? From her standpoint she watched as Gar seemed to slump a little, erasing some of their height difference. It was only a few seconds later that she realized his stooping posture had been merely a way of leaning closer to her. Raven's skin prickled in warning.

"You're upset about something." He told her seriously, staring into her face not with the impish eyes she was so familiar with, but with eyes that were piercing and demanding. She flinched instinctively and tried to hide it by turning her head away. He sighed softly.

"Whatever. You don't have to tell me about it." And with that his presence disappeared. The pocket of heat were his body once stood became cold and empty again, and when she looked to see where it had gone, Raven saw him back at the counter munching on his daily helping of Lucky Charms. She strolled over, purposely ignoring him and the curious stares aimed at her back. Their short spat hadn't gone unnoticed.

Opening the fridge, Raven's sour mood lifted slightly at the sight of food. She paused, then grabbed the milk. A few moment later she joined Gar at the counter with her own bowl of cereal. The milk in his bowl had gone a grey-pink color, and he seemed to be more interested in swirling the pieces around then actually eating it.

"I'm not upset." She admitted to him all of a sudden, then quickly stuffed her mouth with a spoon loaded with cornflakes. Gar didn't say anything. Instead he reached forward and grabbed the glass of orange juice, his arm brushing hers as he did so. All of a sudden the food wouldn't go down quite right. It stuck there like a ball of wet cardboard in her throat. She choked it down painfully.

"Don't eat so fast." He advised noticing how she winced.

"Don't tell me what to do." She muttered, and just to spite him shoved another large spoonful into her mouth. And he just sat there swirling those little pieces around in the ruined milk, and staring into that bowl like he was waiting for it to say something.

Raven was still mad at him, and he probably knew that which explained his respectful silence. But the absence words between them, more specifically, the absence of his words, was making her edgy and uncomfortable.

The problem with living with somebody and spending most of your time around them was that there really wasn't too much to talk about. Sure, you could greet them, ask how they're, doing but that's where conversation would often sputter and die. Of course, not everybody in their happy family had that problem. Garfield could ramble for hours, talking about anything and everything and nothing all at the same time.

So it bothered her now that he had chosen to remain silent instead of poking and prodding her for answers. She crammed down a few more bites of cereal in quick succession, watching him out of the corner of her eye, and getting more and more irritated by his silence.

Gar was still in his pajamas she noted, looking comfortable in his sweatpants and an old tee. The scene would've looked completely normal if he hadn't been green. Of course if he wasn't green he probably wouldn't be sitting here eating breakfast with a demon hybrid in a large building shaped like a letter of the alphabet.

Raven let her spoon fall and hit the bowl with a loud clang signaling she was finished. The second she leaned back from it, Gar was up, grabbing his bowl and hers before taking them over to the sink. She didn't say thanks, knowing perfectly well that's what he was aiming for. Leaning on her elbow, head in hand, she watched him rinse out the bowls, intrigued by the way his body bent this and that way as he reached for the soap or the towel. Green heels poked out of the bottom of his pantlegs every time he stretched to grab something. Green muscles expanded and grew taunt in his arms when he went to place the clean bowls up high on their respective shelves.

He turned so fast that her eyes did not have the time to look away, and instead he caught them in his gaze with his head turned to look over his shoulder. There was a curious sensation spreading its way throughout her body, working its way from her very center up to the muscles in her face.

It hurt the way any suppressed action hurts. The way tears hurt when you hold them in. The way laughter hurts when you bottle it up. She felt the pressure, something unbearable and foreign, and automatically fought it. But then Gar smiled- smiled big and open at her with that fang sticking out and the words just came without bidding.

"Thank you." Gar gave a very small laugh, as if chuckling over a private joke only he knew. He turned back around to close the cabinet.

"No problem. I owe it to you."

---

He wasn't always so understanding though. And that's usually when Raven realized she had been taking his patience for granted. After all, he wasn't a machine either. His emotions weren't always set at happy or content. She'd seen him angry before, but time always seemed to erase her memory of it, so that the next time he lashed out it was like seeing that fury for the first time all over again.

Gar, she had decided long ago, was a naturally jovial person, content to spend his days laughing with friends and finding the bright side to any situation. So when he became upset enough to actually display his anger it always caused a spike of concern in Raven. She also noticed that his rare outbursts of anger were often sudden, and set off by the smallest things, almost as if he had been bottling up his frustrations for long periods of time only to have them finally explode.

Then, once the fire and flood had relented, he would be back to his old self, if not even more prone to his usual joking and laughing. But Gar's rage wasn't something you could just shake off especially when you were the one at the receiving end. He was never violent, never used threats and never gave any impression that he intended to physically harm you. But the raw power and fury was there in his voice and in his eyes.

It happened a few days after their encounter in the kitchen, right in the middle of dinner. Everything seemed to happen in the middle of dinner, as if the subtle messages they were sending each other across the table were more powerful than their face to face confrontations.

"Robin tells me the fair is in town." Piped Star. There was a groan from a few of the listeners.

"Aw, that's just for kiddies Star. I think we might be getting a little too old for…"

"Absurdity! People of all sizes go to the fair. Besides we have always enjoyed ourselves before." She insisted, and to emphasize her point she brought the bottom of her fork down on the table. The dishes clattered and her face reddened in surprise and embarrassment. Victor was sucking thoughtfully on a chicken wing, and Robin seemed to share a little of Star's embarrassment. He was very intent on separating his rice from his peas.

"You know, chicks dig that sort of thing. The big stuffed animals, the ferris wheels… I've got a few girls in mind that might come along." Mused Victor, entertaining the idea as a good opportunity for a date. Raven had a hunch that was Robin's plan all along.

Star seemed to visibly brighten upon hearing his words. Now she looked pointedly toward Garfield, who seemed uncharacteristically moody today. His appetite was off and he was slouching particularly badly.

"Fine. I'm in." Grumbled Gar, giving a lazy wave with his fork. He glanced up at Raven, who had decided to stay quiet about the whole matter. She'd been to fairs before. They were loud, busy affairs full of smelly people and even worse smelling food. As if knowing her thoughts, Gar called her out.

"Gonna stay at home Raven?" He asked. His eyes were down and his voice held a mocking tone, "Or do you actually want to spend some time with us?" The atmosphere of the table seemed to chill and become something solid and brittle. Everybody but Gar seemed to be very interested in their food.

"I don't like fairs. Too many people. Too dirty." Her voice was a straight line. Straighter than the pulse reading on a dead man. In reality her body was buzzing, because she could feel something strange about Garfield. She could sense that intimidating, alien-ness leaking out of his every pore.

"Well you know what? I don't like a lot of things actually." He began, setting his fork down very calmly.

"I don't like going to hamburger stands with Victor. I don't like helping Robin with his research. I don't like Starfire's cooking."

He seemed to grow a little bigger with each passing word. The room was completely silent except for a small hiccup from Starfire on her right. Raven refused to lift her eyes from the plate, because she knew that if she looked at him now she might be paralyzed by that glare, and that's what she hated most about him- his ability to leave her speechless.

"But you know what?" he hissed and the question seemed to suck the air from the very room.

"I go to lunch with Victor 'cause it makes him happy. I help Robin with his research 'cause it makes him happy. Hell, I even eat Star's cooking 'cause it make her happy."

There was a pause that lasted a heartbeat. Nobody's fork was moving anymore.

"So Raven, what the fuck have you_ ever_ done to make any of us happy?"

It would have been better if he had screamed it at her she thought. Because if he had yelled it at her then at least some of the impact might have been lost in the volume of his words. But he had asked her in a voice that was calm and quiet so that every word of that scathing question was directed right at her.

The chair screeched noisily on the tile floor as she pushed it back. Two steps and it seemed she was at the door, two more and she was halfway down the hallway. Then something seemed to catch up with her because her body stopped, muscles clenching with something akin to pain so that she was forced to lean against the cold wall.

It wasn't over though. A few seconds later the door slid open again and she was shaken by how fast he seemed to reach her. It was like a blur, like her brain was still working to figure out what had happened and why the hell it had happened. Her breathing was coming much too fast.

"You're not escaping this one. You're going to tell me just what the fuck your problem is." He demanded. He was so tall leaning over like that, and she (stupid!) had dared to look him right in the eye. He held her gaze there with a steel trap, pouring his anger and wrath and frustrations right into her already spinning mind.

It was like drowning.

"I don't..." She choked and lost herself again. A loud bang reverberated in her ears as his hands planted themselves firmly on either side of her head.

"Tell me!" He hissed leaning closer. And all the while Raven's mind was screaming wrong wrong wrong, and she was dying now, she knew that this was what dying felt like because her chest and head where about to rip open with the pressure inside.

She gulped in air, staring mesmerized at those green eyes with the angry flecks of gold swirling around in them, wanting nothing more than for this thing with it's raw emotion and demanding questions to just disappear and leave her alone to break and rebuild.

"Tell me Raven!" And this time he did yell. "Why!"

Loud and angry and hot and too close too close…

"I don't know!" She cried. Her body was trembling so hard and the pressure just kept building. She could hear her insides working with each pump of her heart and gasp of air.

"Please…" She whimpered, "Please I don't know." And his eyes searched hers, prodding so deep she felt like he was reaching right inside to grab her heart and feel it beat in his own hands.

And all she could say was 'please'. It was in her words and in her face.

'Please stop. Please stop. Please stop.'

And after a few seconds he did. His head bowed. She heard the hands with their rough calluses sliding down the titanium wall to rest at his sides. Raven realized she was panting and, looking at him, now she saw Gar's own chest rising and falling in rapid succession. They both stood silently in the aftermath, not thinking or feeling, just slowly going numb.

"I don't- I don't mean it you know." Gar muttered. The green bangs hid his eyes as he spoke.

"It's just hard sometimes…" He gritted his teeth, as if trying to grind out the thoughts and emotions he had just displayed to her, only now attempting to put them in words.

"It's hard when some people try so hard… for so long, and then- then nothing." He explained. Raven could only stand there and listen to him, trying to make sense of his outburst, and what had been the source of that angry hurricane.

His hand came up to rub at his eyes, and she watched his fingers press and release until the hand dropped and his head came up again. The intensity was no longer there. She could look at him without feeling as if her insides were being brought to a boil. He gazed at her, and instead she saw a resigned sadness buried deep in there.

"Oh Raven..." He sighed wearily. His hand came up again. The same one that had drawn lazy circles on her back, the same one that had fisted and pounded the wall, the same one he had wiped across his tired expression. It came up and paused a few inches away from her, then reached to cup the side of her face. She went rigid under his touch.

"I would never want to hurt you. You know that right?" He asked, his eyes almost pleading with her own. Raven couldn't respond. At the moment she forgot she even had a voice at all. Everything was still unclear to her, outlined with edges that were fuzzy and grey. Everything except his hand that is.

"Please tell me you know that." His palm was warm and foreign on her skin, the contact making her more aware of him than ever before. And all the while this was happening, an old part of herself was creeping back, reminding her of how wrong the touch felt, whispering to her stunned brain that he should not be standing so close. He should not be caring so much, should not be trying so hard, should not be treating her as anyone other than Raven.

Raven. The girl who did whatever she damn well pleased knowing nobody would tell her otherwise. Nobody but this boy with his hand resting firmly on her cheek.

And something seemed to shudder and come alive in her then, like a part of her was being reawakened. Suddenly all systems were go. Everything was up and running, pumping proper thought and feeling back into her scrambled brain so that she remembered how to speak and how to react.

"I need some time alone." She muttered and turned her head away so that his fingers and his palm skated along the skin before he withdrew them.

"I see." He said, lacking the conviction. Then without another word he moved aside so she could brush past him. Raven felt him watching her even after she had sealed herself away behind the cold, cold door of her room.

**A/N-**Well I apologize for the typos (I know they're in there... lurking, but hopefully they were not too distracting). Once again, reviews are ALWAYS appreciated and would definitely encourage the author to continue this fic with as much gusto as she began it with. It doesn't have to be a drawn out anaysis of my writing skills, but a few words of your opinion would mean the world.

Thanks for reading!


	3. Session 3

**A/N**: Shorter chapter I know (whine). It's crammed to death with mindless, plotless dribble about the relationship as a whole, with little constructive interaction between our favorite couple. I'm saving that for next time I promise.

On another note, I was amazed by the sudden wave of feedback. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, and yeah, thanks to everyone who read even if you didn't review (pansies). Well, hope this next chapter manages to meet expectations.

_Session #3_

It turned out that she really didn't need it.

Because time alone meant time spent brooding and reliving the past's horrific moments over and over again. It meant lying there on the bed, dazed and confused, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong, and why her gut kept insisting that, no, it wasn't just his fault, but that she had played a part in it too. And really the last thing Raven felt like doing was finding a way to justify her actions.

Attempting to justify what she had said and done was like trying to find an excuse for being herself and, at the moment, she really wasn't quite sure _who_ she was anymore. Was she an outcast because of her demon heritage? Or was it because of choice and choice alone? And now with only the shadows of her room as witness Raven began to doubt herself.

It was a painful process, because her own mind seemed to be picking herself apart piece by piece. She thought of the time when Starfire had discovered her meditating in the dark, covered by bits of ceiling plaster after her emotional rampage. Star had been hesitant, taking care not to prod and leaving after she had gotten her answer out of Raven.

"_Are you not feeling well?"_

"_No, Star I am not feeling well." _She might have nodded, but Raven would never know because she had had her fisted hands pushed firmly into her eyes. Either way the understanding that Starfire seemed to possess of Raven and her emotions was a poor imitation of true comprehension. Any fool could nod and say "I understand". It was another thing entirely to display that understanding through proper words and actions.

So what then?

Many before her had played the misunderstood card, throwing it out there as an excuse for anything and everything. Heck, she had done it on occasion. But there was a twist in there. Being _understood_ meant that other people knew exactly what made you tick. They could read your thoughts and emotions with a glance and peel back the protective layers to get to the sensitive truth underneath. Being understood meant exposing yourself, leaving your soft spots open for attack.

And when all was said and done, being understood meant relying on those who did the understanding. She never wanted to rely on anybody. There was too much of a chance that something would go rotten and then that crutch she had learned to lean on suddenly wouldn't be there anymore.

Then there was Garfield.

Always worming his way into her business, asking as many questions as he pleased until he could form some sort of conclusion from her answers. He seemed determine to understand her whether she liked it or not and it seemed like neither threats of hell nor high water could stop him. However, it wasn't his stubborn resolve that so shocked her these days but rather the way he sometimes seemed to understand parts of Raven that she didn't even know existed.

And now his words were still bouncing around the inside of her skull as if determined to be heard even after the breath that made them had dissolved. And the bitter truth was that maybe she had liked the finger on her back, and maybe she did want to let him understand at least a little bit of herself. And really, when was the last time she had done anything for any of her friends?

He was constantly pushing for change, not in a manner that suggested she should become something she was not, but in a way that suggested that she had the potential in her all along. If this was all true, then she had to admire Gar's faith in her…

...but then again he could just be an insensitive bastard Raven supposed.

None of these thoughts were making the memory of his anger any more bearable however. She still could see his eyes pressing into hers, pushing the air right out of her lungs and then there had been the hand, warm and trembling on her cheek. It seemed like Gar could change his emotions almost as easily as he could change shape. And he had been so furious with her this time, frustrated at… what had he said?

_When some people try so hard… for so long, and then- then nothing._

Frustrated at the lack of change- at her lack of change. It suddenly felt very overwhelming to Raven. He had been expecting too much, the fool. He should know a leopard can't change its spots.

And really what gave him the right to expect so much from her? Nobody had ever done that before, so why him and why now?

"Why damnit!" Raven shouted. The question died in the flat air and she seemed to suddenly realize the insanity of her musings. Just laying there and thinking about it all wasn't doing her any good. In fact she had more questions buzzing around in her head now, than she had when she had first collapsed on the bed.

She needed a distraction. Or answers. But the latter meant talking to Gar which terrified her at the moment. She could still taste the waves of raw emotion that had rolled off him, all of it much too honest and intimate on her tongue. And after nearly drowning in that unrestrained mix of frustration, anger, sorrow, and even affection, Raven was not inclined to go near its source anytime soon.

Of course, those types of promises, she learned, are easily broken.

---

Gar was being an idiot again. She walked in on him putting the silverware away and found him jumping around the kitchen with three steak knives held between the fingers of both hands. He was humming some action tune and making sound effects as he went darting about. The rest of the room was strangely empty, which was probably the reason why he was being so obnoxious. She walked right by him, startling Gar so much that two of the knives slipped to clatter on the floor. By the time she turned around to look at him, his face was already a blushing mess.

"Heya Raven!" He piped, picking up the knives hastily and shoving them in the drawer. "Just uh, trying out my Wolverine impersonation." He explained. She just frowned, grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and went to sit down on the sofa. But darn it he was persistent as always, ambling over and munching on his own apple. Raven who had picked up her book, watched out of the corner of her eye as a green arm rest itself casually on the back of the sofa.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

"Morning." He mumbled, mouth full of food. Crunch, crunch.

"Yeah, whatever." She mumbled back, knowing it would only provoke him, but still hoping he might get the point and go back to emptying the dishwasher.

"Aw, aren't you going to say good morning Gar?" He whined. Crunch, crunch.

"Not today." She heard him swallow. Something made her spine prickled nervously.

"We should talk."

"We are talking." She pointed out, and in response felt him bristle with agitation.

"I mean really talk Raven."

"So talk."

"WE. Not just me. And you can't talk to me when you've got your nose buried in a book." A hand reached over her head to snatch it right out of her fingers. Flipping around angrily, Raven came face to face with him. The sudden shock of seeing him up close again, especially after yesterday, was enough to make her jerk backwards in an instinctive manner.

She was fully prepared to yell at him, to punch him, and cause all sorts of hell and havoc in his life just to get her book back, but she wouldn't. She wouldn't snap and demand her book because that was from an earlier time in their lives. It was meant for days when he was lanky and short and all boyish mischief, and when she was creepy and reclusive and easy to anger. Which, nowadays they were both a little of each (except the short part), but with time had come maturity and change. She wasn't about to go chasing after him, and he wasn't about to go running around with the book held over his head like some grand prize.

Instead Raven just sat their looking pointedly into his face, making demands without words and secretly wishing that it was a little more like the old days. Because now when he stole her book his look was rarely one that she recognized from the Beast Boy of their teen-hood, instead it was a look more suited for Garfield Logan. And right now with him peering into her face with such seriousness, Raven silently wished he would just grin and go running off with it.

"About yesterday right?" She finally asked. He seemed pleased to see that she was cooperating now and in response came around to sit down next to her. The sofa cushions shifted downward, creases pooling around his weight. Raven noticed he was in his PJ's again, which managed to irritated her even though it was still relatively early in the morning and perfectly acceptable.

Sighing and setting the remains of his apple on the coffee table, Gar gave her another look that said "Don't make this any harder than it need be." Again, such a different personality than the one she had grown up with! It made something in her mind itch.

"So what about it then?" Raven questioned, crossing her arms.

"First, I want to apologize." He fidgeted slightly and something inside her was cheered to see normal Gar behavior.

"We were both to blame. You should know by now that you don't have to say sorry for every argument we have."

"But it wasn't an argument… I attacked you. It was onesided…" His hands made little movements as he spoke, clasping and unclasping themselves, motioning a little, and even running themselves through his hair. A few strands stuck out at odd angles now.

Raven stayed silent after his last words even though her real gut instinct was to tell him he was lying and not to be ridiculous. But she knew it would be dishonest to say something like that especially when he was trying to be open. In all bare honestly it _had_ been an attack on his part, his eyes boring into her, his emotions slowly suffocating her. She had felt trapped and even frightened. Not frightened of him so much as to what his emotions were doing to her body.

"It's fine, really. It happens. Somebody explodes, and then we move on with our lives. No damage done." She tried to sound reassuring yet distant as if no, he didn't affect her at all, and no, she hadn't lain in bed for hours reliving it over and over again. He leaned forward a little at her words.

"But see that's the thing! Maybe we shouldn't just move on, talk about it, you know? Do some resolving?"

Raven stiffened. Suddenly she didn't like where this was going. She didn't like it at all.

He was talking about resolving issues, which first of all she didn't even know he knew the word resolve, and second, that lead into _very_ dangerous territory. He wanted to pick up rocks and see what was really underneath them, even if it meant encountering something that would sting and bite. And Raven wanted those things to stay were they were, hidden somewhere between them in pockets of invisible space.

She did not want to resolve anything. That meant admitting things to herself and to him, and making vague smoky thoughts something very solid and very real. It meant acknowledging the little things that lurked in their lives.

Like there was something hovering there where his shirt stretched taunt over his abdomen, and something else hiding in the creases on the sofa that marked his solid weight. She could feel those somethings in the friction their skin created when they brushed arms. They had been there yesterday too, floating like a haze in the heat and passion of their argument. She did not want to touch them or think about them, and _definitely_ didn't want to resolve them.

"I'd rather not." And once again Raven pulled herself miles away from the conversation at hand. She could see herself reflected at a far distance in his eyes. Gar seemed to realize what she was doing, and leaned back in response.

"You can't just ignore it. That doesn't make it go away." He told her softly. "It just makes it worse for everybody." She said nothing. It was safer that way, easier to avoid being sucked in by accident and revealing something. But his words had sense to them, even if she didn't want to admit it.

"Well if you're not going to cooperate, that leaves me only one choice." He told her gravely. Raven raised an eyebrow.

Distance, she reminded herself.

But, everything went out the window after that because, damnit, he had just grinned at her like a madman and taken off with her book, waving it around and yelling pure lunacy as he went. She slipped into the old habit much too easily, taking off after him, with threats already pouring from her lips.

But as she chucked the remote at him, a part of her mind was still wondering how he had known that this- this familiarity- was what she had been craving.

---

The familiarity could never last. Trying to hold onto it was like trying to live in the past. She might be able to create that false reality for a while, but time was a cruel master of fate. It was constantly carrying them forward, never lingering in one place for too long, and never looking back.

The moments when he was Beast Boy were now becoming few and far between, and the person known as Garfield Logan seemed to be the more permanent resident of his body. He still joked and acted his idiot self, but in a curiously mature way that suggested he knew things now that he hadn't before. And it was like his body followed his mind, stretching itself out and turning the tiny lanky frame into something long and sinewy and powerful, like it had to adjust in order to accommodate that new knowledge.

And meanwhile time was taking him and working its fingers into his mold, taking the boyish features and making them sharper and stronger. Sometimes at a glance she would catch sight of the boy still hidden in there, but it was a hard image to maintain. There was that knowing in his eyes that made them darker around the edges and a tilt to his grin that suggested more shadowy thoughts.

And she couldn't help but hate it solely for the reason that she couldn't control it. No matter what she did or how she tried to do it, Raven found it impossible to squeeze him back into the mold of Beast Boy. Anytime she managed to pin something down, make it familiar and comfortable and safe, something else would rise up and take her by surprise. And for a moment now and then she would question herself and wonder why she cared at all.

Because everybody grew up and changed didn't they?

He was simply following the path of least resistance, and maybe she thought, maybe that's why it bothered her. Garfield seemed to embrace the changes eagerly, accepting each as it came without question or hesitation.

She hated change. It was always an eternal struggle, a fight to keep it at bay for as long as she could hold out, even when common sense told her it was inevitable. And to see him take on these changes with ease was cause for a small prickle of resentment within Raven. Why should he get the easy way out when she was still so desperately trying to stuff him back into his old character and his old body?

It was hard enough to fight off her own personal changes, but nearly impossible to stop his. Like bailing water out of a sinking boat, Raven found that no matter how much she dumped out more water came rushing to replace it. And now she had that terrible plummeting feeling in her chest that told her it couldn't last and that she would either be drowned in the current she fought against so desperately, or learn to swim with it.

It was all to be determined in due time.

---

Things might've been different, she thought, if they had just established it at the beginning.

_"I Garfield Logan, member of the Teen Titans, hereby swear on all things holy and tofu-related, that Raven Roth and I shall never be more than friends." _

Yada, yada, yada, sign on the dotted line, and there.

It was a solid thing, a visible, physical proof that nothing could ever happen otherwise. But there was no official document and nothing set in stone that outlined their relationship and Raven grew to resent the grey areas that so often seemed to seep into their everyday interactions.

Their relationship was a living organism, something that grew, changed shaped, and either thrived or withered depending on recent events. And much to her annoyance, Raven found that once again it was a product, not just of her actions, but of his as well. Most of these days she couldn't figure out what it was that went through his head.

She really didn't want to know what gave him the idea that it would be acceptable to tease her by blowing in her ear, or pester her by twirling his finger around a stray lock of hair. Her mind would scream that it was not right for a boy of 19 to go about harassing any of his friends like that, unless of course he had other motives. Which, as painful as it was to admit, he probably did.

Gar was too attached to her, too concerned about her, and too prone to touching her for him to be solidly cemented into the friend category. His fingers were always seeking her, fluttering over to brush a knuckle, an arm, a strand of hair. Tiny moth wings whispering on her skin, as if the smallest contact was just enough to sooth some burning thirst.

Raven would feel her entire body prickle with sensation and then she would proceed by beating him back into the safe zone, using whatever brute force and sharp wit was necessary. Because after all she was Raven, and Raven did not respond to such things with soft sighs or weak limbs, or an aching heart.

Romance and attraction be damned!

Such things are for the weak!

And so on and so forth, and she just kept marching forward repeating her mantra and waving her banner like it was her birthright.

Which maybe it was. Along with her cold heart.

**A/N:** Worst chapter yet. I'm being all cliché and rambly, not to mention I seem to have forgotten all those 1st grade grammar lessons. Can't type worth a monkey's bellybutton fuzz. Good stuff next chapter. I'm getting tingly just thinking about it. Thanks for reading.

Any suggestions or comments or critiques are welcome.


	4. Session 4

**A/N**: It's a day late. So much for making my deadlines…

Currently the authoress is suffering from intense intestinal problems after consuming waaay too many cherries. There are other problems as well including, but not limited to, summer homework, community service commitments, and (shudder) college applications. Thanks to those who reviewed, (THANK YOU!), and to those who did not… well, I'm sure the guilt is just eating away at you. I do hope you enjoy this chapter. I had fun writing it

_Session #4_

It was never really her choice in the first place.

After all she had thousands upon thousands of years of human instinct and evolution against her. There were simply some things that could not be avoided or left unacknowledged no matter what her modern thought process might believe. And this was definitely one of those things.

She had barely begun to forgive him for his recent behavior, when he had gone and made things worse, much worse, in a way that could not be repaired with an apology. Perhaps he hadn't meant anything by it in the beginning, and perhaps it was just suppose to be another "pestering Raven moment", but whatever his original intentions had been, it had most certainly damaged the word friendship in a way that Raven feared was irreparable. He had never treated the term with much respect before, she had to admit, so perhaps it shouldn't have been such a surprise to her when he went and abused it beyond recognition.

There hadn't been any warnings, or foreshadowing, or any reason for it to have happened. Maybe fate was against them, or destiny was showing them that the crumbling thing they called a friendly relationship was not meant to last. Either way now Raven was dealing without boundaries or limitations or anything to grasp onto and call home.

It had happened a few days after the apology that was not an apology. They had gone to the local bookstore after lunch, just to browse, to mull about with the rest of society. Raven had found that there was a small thrill in normalcy, whether it was just standing in line, or passing by one another, and seeing faces that she did not know and would probably never know.

The titans did these things on occasion, perhaps just as a chance to experience the other side of themselves- the side that might have lived in a house and had a family and went to school. The half that might have been their wholes had those genes, or diseases, or accidents, or deaths not existed in their lives.

But it was just suppose to be another trip to the bookstore with Raven picking out her stack of 5 or 6 books, Starfire grabbing her usual magazines, Robin and Cyborg occasionally purchasing a book or two, and Gar leaving with a gameguide or a music CD. She had been browsing the fiction section, already toting the poems of Walt Whitman and Lord Byron under her arm when he had snuck up on her.

Actually, she had seen him walking down an aisle and purposely avoided it, but as she was rounding the corner he had come up behind her and stopped her dead by calling her name. She didn't particularly want to talk to him since lately her thoughts had been too dangerous and her emotions too prone to fluctuations. She didn't want to see him here either, following her in a pair of jeans that hung loose on his hips and a shirt that was wrinkled.

Seeing him like this made something in her chest ache, and she knew it had everything to do with how completely human he looked standing there- like maybe they were two people who knew each other and had met again by chance in a bookstore. And now he was calling her name in recognition, wanting to catch up on old times, wanting to talk with her and walk with her, like maybe they weren't going home to the same place and like maybe they didn't see each other everyday. She fell for it a little bit, saying his name in response.

"Gar?" And it even came out in a question as if she was also surprised to see him here.

"How are you doing? Got any good books?" He asked her, looking down pointedly at the two held beneath her arm. She noticed how his eyes only flickered to glance at the books and then after that how they remained firmly fixated on her face.

"Well I've been looking for some good poetry so I picked out Walt Whitman and Lord Byron." She explained. He nodded then held out a hand.

"Lemme have a look." She stiffened but handed him one anyways, watching as he flipped it open to the middle and began reading. It was hard to stand there and watch him, because her mind kept going back to stupid things like maybe he thought the poetry was dumb, or maybe he thought she was ridiculous, actually reading something so old and classical.

Her fingers played nervously with the engraving on the other book she held, feeling over the grooves that spelled Lord Byron. Raven turned, examining the other books on the shelf, and hearing the pages turn as she tried to focus on the titles she was reading. As far she knew, Garfield never read books. He had plenty of fun messing with hers but he never actually opened one up and tried to understand the words inside. It unnerved her to see him with his head bent over one and his green fingers flipping the pages.

"It's interesting." He said eventually, and her heart pulsed hard in surprise when he spoke.

"Interesting? Is that all you can say about one of America's greatest poets?" She asked, daring to put a teasing tone in her questions. But he ignored it and continued on anyways.

"It's different, and… very honest about everything. Like he just writes down whatever he's thinking." She noticed that he seemed caught somewhere between a grin and forced seriousness. He was fidgeting a little, still staring at the book and not quite meeting her eyes when he spoke.

"I'm not sure if I understand." She didn't like the way he seemed to be dancing around his thoughts.

"I don't know. It just doesn't seem like your type of poetry." He confessed and this time the edge of his lips did rise in a light smile. The heat rose in her face.

"What kind of statement is that!" She told him indignantly, "My type of poetry? Are you saying that I won't appreciate good literature? That his thoughts are too advanced for mine? You don't know anything about what I read!" This only provoked a laugh, something light and airy like his smile.

"Should I recite a passage?" He asked, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Please do." She was still ruffled, and much too eager to prove him wrong for her to see what was coming, but when he read her the words it was like everything in her brain just exploded into silence.

_"The poems of the privacy of the night, and of men like me,_

_This poem, drooping shy and unseen, that I always carry, and that all men carry,_

_The mystic amorous night—the strange half-welcome pangs, visions, sweats,_

_The pulse pounding through palms and trembling encircling fingers_

_The curious roamer, the hand, roaming all over the body—the bashful withdrawing of flesh where the fingers soothingly pause and edge themselves_

_The young man that flushes and flushes, and the young woman that flushes and flushes _

_The red lips parted, blooming with the sound of ecstasy."_

He paused there, looking at her as if to say that he could continue. But she was sure that he knew the point had been won, and now she was flushing and flushing and hating herself, and hating him and hating Walt Whitman.

And it might have been okay if Gar had just blushed and apologized and handed the book back to her. Well, it probably wouldn't have been completely okay, but it would've been better.

"You misunderstood me, but now I think we can both agree that his poetry is a little...unique." And he grinned. She was shaking hard and trying to drive the poet out of her head so she could focus on salvaging the situation. It almost worked for a second, but he seemed to anticipate her motives.

"Do you always read such interesting books?" He asked coming forward a few steps. The book lay open in his hand, held loosely between his thumb and forefingers. The added intimacy sent her heart rate skyrocketing.

"I was not aware…" She mumbled, all the while dreadfully aware of her pink cheeks and the way he was giving her that tilted smile. She wanted him and his ideas out of her mind, wishing she could stop thinking about roaming hands and fingertips especially when he was so close. It was like he knew what was going through her brain, and she could tell by that cocky smile that he was enjoying every moment of it.

"It's perfectly healthy you know." He said advancing even more so that now she was tilting her head slightly to look up at him. And all the while Raven was thinking, he wouldn't dare, he wouldn't be so stupid… so selfish. But even as she was trying to convince herself, the room was shrinking rapidly around her, around them, making Gar and everything about him her only focus.

Raven had unwillingly begun to accept the fact that Gar, for lack of a better description, was a very sexual being. He was male of course, and like most male minds he probably couldn't help but focus on such matters. But there was more evidence to support her perception than just the subject of his gender. His movement, his body, his stance, his grin, the way he just _looked_ at her sometimes, all of it seemed to bleed something almost erotic.

And he was doing that now, enjoying the way she stuttered and blushed and tried to back the hell away from him only to be foiled by a bookcase. He was becoming something else entirely- a thing of hot breath and heady scents and warm expanse.

And for God's sakes he wasn't even touching her! But he might have been for the way her skin seemed to crawl and writhe. She felt it all over like an unbearable itch, threatening to drive her mad if he didn't just… just…. do something. She couldn't figure out whether that something was leaving or another thing entirely.

"I'm not interested in those things." She managed to choke, and was quite proud to have even gotten the entire sentence out without tripping over her words. And she thought it had been the truth- was almost positive that it was the truth. Then he laughed low in his chest, turning her skin to gooseflesh, and Raven began to wonder if her body was betraying her words.

"Don't lie to me." He whispered. Her anger rose in a refreshing wave of familiar emotions. Albeit, the reaction had been delayed, but now Raven was suddenly afloat again, held there above the waves by the lifesaving feelings of fury and resentment. She felt the control return and flow through her veins reassuringly, driving out whatever her stress induced body had pumped into them.

And now, she could look him square in the eye, and remember just who he was and remember just who she was. And she knew that he was accusing her of being something other than Raven, and of feeling things that were unRavenly. She had an identity to protect, and no amount of sexual charisma was going to make her forget that duty.

"Don't insult me. I would not stoop to entertain such ideas." She sneered, happy to hear the bite was back in her voice. This caused a flicker of a frown on Gar's face, something of hurt mixed with confusion. The book snapped shut lightly in his hand, and he leaned even closer, which Raven didn't know was possible. It seemed there was only a sliver of air that separated their faces now. She could feel his breath hit her face.

"I am not asking you to stoop, but to rise up and meet them." He whispered and it seemed to suck out whatever air remained between them. She was drowning in his proximity again, just like in the hallway, and it was him that was filling up her lungs and it was him that was pumping into her heart and veins. The angry edge was fading into passive shock because he was almost pressed against her and his face was coming forward to settle itself close to hers.

Everything was noisy now, between the small breaths he took by her ear and the sound of her heart going off in rhythmic thuds. There was a nose tracing along the side of her face and a hand gripping the bookshelf on her right.

And oh…

...he was warm and the air was thick with something that made movements last for lifetimes. Her body was nothing but nerves, feeling every brush of skin on skin and every burst of air.

They were not in a bookstore. He was not Garfield. She was not Raven.

Lips brushed the bottom of her jaw almost accidentally, her mouth parted and exhaled, inhaled, smelled skin and hair and warmth. There was desperation and fear and want mixing a toxic combination in the air they breathed- something heady and powerful and intoxicating, so that she found herself tilting her head so that nose and mouth could whisper across her skin again.

The whoosh of air through lips and the feel of him against her- the feel of losing control and functioning on reflex alone. She would press forward only to encounter a flicker of hesitation which would draw her backwards again. It happened once, then twice, with noses barely brushing and eyes threatening to close.

But then there was a firm shape pressed against her stomach, and he was pulling away from the world they had been enclosed in. Her hands went to the shape, finding the book held there against her abdomen by his hand. She grabbed it, touching skin to skin again for the briefest of moments, then he was turning and walking away from her. She barely caught the grin shamelessly spread across his lips.

It had taken place in only a matter of seconds- just a few confusing moments of fumbling and stretching intimacy to the breaking point. They hadn't kissed, but it had been so close. If either of them had been trying in all seriousness...

But there had been a layer of hesitation sitting there between them like an invisible force field. She was panting now, Raven realized, her skin damp and her heart still pattering in her chest with the occasional weak flutter. And, the worst part was, she had wanted so badly to just tangle her fingers into his clothes or his hair and pull him in to feel the pressure of his lips. It had been the most powerful surge of raw desire she had ever felt, and it sure as hell scared the living daylights out of her (in retrospect).

And now she was wondering just what had been going through his mind, and what had given him the guts to just tempt her like that. She should have slapped him, or kneed him in the groin! Anything besides what she had done! Instead here she was leaning shakily on a bookshelf for support, while her lungs worked overtime to supply oxygen to her pounding heart. She clutch the book tighter, forced herself to breathe smoothly, and then almost felt like bursting into tears when she realized she had to go home with him.

He would be there in the mornings when she got up. He would be there at the dinner table every night. He would be there wandering around, just waiting to catch her off guard again. He would always be there haunting her with small touches and stolen glances and knowing looks, like he could read the most intimate parts of her mind. And he seemed hell bent on exploring those unfamiliar parts of her personality, taking to the challenge with such… enthusiasm, that it made her wonder what sort of satisfaction or reward he was trying to get out of it. She jumped about a foot in the air when all of a sudden Victor stuck his head around the corner and called her name.

"Yo Raven! We're leaving soon!" He yelled and she hastily tried to compose herself, smoothing her shirt and taking deep, even breaths.

"Yeah, okay. I'll go pay then." She called back. She was almost to the register when suddenly she stopped, grabbed one of the books from beneath her arm and set it on one of the sale shelves. Walt Whitman could go to hell.

---

The air was crisp and the leaves crunched underfoot as the five of them walked down the street. Overall it was another pleasant autumn afternoon in Jump City. They passed a bakery and Raven's nose picked up on the scent of pies and bread fresh from the oven. Even in her current state of trauma and panic, she found herself relaxing, which might have had everything to do with the fact that Garfield was walking on the far end of their group.

Maybe, she thought, this was his way of making it up to her. Maybe he was giving her space and time to recover.

And maybe not… because when she glanced over he met her eyes and let that telltale smile spread over his features. Then he was turning away and laughing at something Victor had told him, loud and joyous as ever. No guilty conscious nagging at his mind.

"Raven, you seem to be feeling better." Starfire noted.

"I suppose." She replied, not really believing herself.

"You are so secretive my friend." She mused, staring intently at Raven with her large green eyes.

"I like dealing with things on my own."

"It would not hurt to have some company every once in a while, I think. If you ever need to just… get away, you can always come shopping with me, or maybe we could just go to lunch." Raven glanced up at her and allowed herself a small smile for Starfire's sake.

"That might be nice. I'll think about it."

"We are the only two girls in the tower. It might be helpful and beneficial for both of us to spend time together. There are some things that can only be shared between two females." Starfire reasoned. Her logic was not lost on Raven, but years of solitude made her feel awkward and hesitant.

She thanked her friend anyways, and they chatted casually as they walked along. This type of companionship was soothing after her heated encounter in the bookstore. There were no hormones or sweaty palms or racing hearts. It was light conversation with occasional giggles or smiles that warmed her with simple comforts. She actually was beginning to let it get to her, between the nice weather and the smell of autumn and coffee shops.

Something brushed against her hand lightly, and the touch barely registered in her mind as she conversed with Starfire. But then it happened again and again and when she turned to glance at who or what she was brushing against, Raven practically stopped right there in the middle of the street.

It was Gar, strolling casually alongside her with the back of his hand gently brushing along hers as they walked. Starfire smiled at him in surprise. Like Raven she had been unaware of him up until that moment.

"What are you doing here?" Raven snapped. He was ruining the mood, turning her pleasant evening into another battle and it was seriously starting to tick her off. Whenever he was around she was forced to put up wall after wall of protective barriers to keep him out. It was hard work fighting him in these discreet ways, whether she was flinging sarcastic comments at him or just outright ignoring him.

Gar didn't look at her. He just kept that strong profile pointed ahead, arms swinging loosely by his sides. Back and forth, skin touching skin with every swaying movement. She made to move away, to put more space there between them so that annoying little burst of contact would stop distracting her. But then his fingers snagged hers on a downward stroke, holding them firmly while Raven felt herself go pink. He was holding her hand.

---

It was so much easier to hate him when he wasn't around. Those were the times when she built up her arsenal, creating reason after reason to dislike him and then spoon feeding those reasons to whatever part of her went soft and stupid whenever he came around. But all her ranting and raving and sessions of denial still didn't stop the memories or the night sweats.

When her mind wandered, it wandered to him. When she dreamt, it was often of him. She was always coming back to him in her thoughts and remembering the feel of him, the smell of him, the details that meant nothing and everything- the shape of his hand, the slightly pointed tooth that would sometimes rest fang-like on a green lip.

When she was with him every sense was on high alert and every possible wall, physical and mental, was placed between them. When she was alone, the barriers came down and her mind bubbled with repressed thought. At night, in a moment of weakness, she would sometimes think of him and a physic tendril might leak out to seek his presence, just to feel him there and find reassurance in his warm, buzzing thoughts.

It was so wrong, so terribly terribly wrong. She didn't like him in that way! She had never liked him in that way! What was he to her but another brainless male? It would have been so much easier if he had just stayed Beast Boy, all annoying, clumsy, skinny boy whose only interests were vegan food items and gaming consoles.

But then he had to go and grow up and ruin everything! Now they were stuck, with thoughts of friendship now and forever damned to the farthest reaches of their universe. It was all uncharted territory with Raven roaming hopelessly through this confusing new world. A new world in which Garfield drew lazy circles on her back, pressed her against walls and bookshelves, and held her hand.

But she'd be lying if she said she didn't like that last part at least a little bit.

**A/N:** It feels like it took ages to write this and yet it's still so short! Well, don't want to rush things do we? I mean what fun would it be if I just went okay "kiss, smooch, slobber" and was done with it?

Inspiration was drawn from Becoming Jane, a movie which had me sighing and sobbing for the remainder of my evening. I recommend it to any hopeless romantic like myself. And I apologize for any typos once again. Proof-reading is not my forte.

Critique and Review please.

I would like to know what you liked and disliked so that I can improve my writing and make my readers happy. Next chapter to be up sometime between the end of this week and the middle of next.


	5. Session 5

**A/N:** This story has not been discontinued despite what my updating habits may have you thinking. I've simply been ….on a journey. Yes, that sounds about right. In the figurative sense of course. Many interesting things have happened, some very good, some very bad. I have my regrets but in comparison with what I have gained they are very small and insignificant.

Since I've last written I've managed to get myself into college (Dartmouth to be precise… my god, what's a Florida girl going to do with all that cold weather?!). I have also found myself a boyfriend, something new and rather unexpected, and we've been dating for about 7 months (have I honestly left this story unattended for THAT long?). As a result of the relationship however, I've learned to differentiate between fact and fiction when it comes to love. This…is both good and bad.

First of all, I find it harder to write romance scenes with the exaggerated conviction I once possessed. Literature and media blow passion completely out of proportion, however I think that if the story is written properly you can be sucked in to believe anything (I still fall for the heavy romance scenes in all the books I've read despite the fact that my better opinion and experience tells me it doesn't work that way). But it's also given me a deeper understanding of what it means to love someone and to be loved in return.

Now I'm sure there are some of you out there protesting that it's simply a matter of meeting the right guy and when you do BOOM the passion just explodes and everything is fire and romance and heated touches the way we've always imagined and hoped. But while you sit there at your computer reading this and forming your own opinion, I'd like you to remember that love is not merely a physical and hormonal response, but something in our hearts and minds that convinces us to be both selfless and selfish at once. I can only hope that my writing still reflects the romantic I am at heart.

Which brings me to one of my regrets: I have been neglecting my writing. It simply fell out of habit and for months and months I wrote nothing that wasn't assigned to me by a teacher. My apologies to everyone. I hope this chapter does not disappoint. And so we go.

_Session #5_

It always came back to childhood didn't it?

As much as the cliché pained her, Raven couldn't help but feel that her past was somehow contributing to her current situation. But she wasn't the type to complain how she wasn't hugged enough as a child. Instead she carried those hidden griefs and burdens with her, and kept them out of the sight of others.

It wasn't so much a matter of shame or embarrassment but rather a fear that this would somehow give outsiders insight into her personality. Her past included the missing pieces necessary to define her. It explained a lot of things: her strange looks, her cold attitude, her affinity for old books… every little mannerism and odd habit that had stuck with her from her childhood.

Showing that to people would take away the Raven theory, the uncertainty principle, and instead turn her into a person with a past. They would no longer think she popped out of the womb with a scowl on her face, spewing sarcasm from her infant lips. Instead they would see that once she had been young and naïve and hopeful. That once she had longed for human company, longed to laugh and play and dream of a future for herself.

But circumstances had robbed her of all of those longings, until one day she just stopped wishing for anything. The cold empty space surrounding her was as familiar as a mother's embrace and the emotionless void filled her, emptied her, and became her. After that there was nothing in her world for a long time.

Just a date.

Her death date.

Her prophecy date.

And she walked towards it hand in hand with time. But then something happened along her journey, something unexpected that never should have happened. She found people and in those people found friends and suddenly the cold empty space around her wasn't so cold and empty anymore, and suddenly time was walking too fast.

The experiences were new and awkward and often times offending to her mind which had sat at rest for much too long. Now there were these ripples in her subconscious, faint brushes of emotion, of anger, happiness, pride, sadness, affection, and she flinched away from them because they were foreign and definitely not a part of herself. They came from these people she called friends. And despite everything, she feared them. She did not fear death for she had come to accept it, nor did she fear the dark which she had lived in for so long. She did not fear the thought of loneliness, for it had been her only friend for a long, long time.

What she did fear was this growing need of dependency, this sudden feeling of "I want" and "I need" when it came to things that she had lived without for an eternity. And when she caught herself in those moments, where the consequences of her past were almost entirely erased, she immediately balked, sunk, and in her drowning state searched desperately for the solid ground that was her past.

Garfield was nothing but a raging, bottomless sea. Simply by touching her he was defying the physics of her world.

--

Someone had put flowers in the center of the table.

They were yellow… daisies? Buttercups? Weeds? She could never tell the difference, but they were new and different and attracted the eye.

The serving plates had to be positioned around them because nobody wanted to take them off the table and they had been put in an old drinking cup, because the Titans did not own vases. Vases were for housewives and Martha Stewart and people who gave a damn about having a real home. Or maybe those types just didn't like too many stretches of open space. Open space meant empty, which seemed to seep into every aspect of your life if you weren't careful. Instead the flowers, in their makeshift vase, distracted the eye, the mind, and the conscious from the void.

They also had the very convenient purpose of blocking Garfield's face from Raven's line of sight. Now when she looked up from her plate she no longer got a face full of smug shame, heated memories, and weakness, but a flash of yellow perched precariously on long green stems.

She liked these flowers.

They still didn't stop her from watching those long green arms which slowly narrowed down at the wrists until her eyes travelled over his hands, veins and knuckles, fingers, clenched around a fork, her own fingers clenching in her lap. Then the yellow winking in her peripheral vision would inevitably draw her back to the flowers.

"Thanks for cooking tonight Robin." She said as his food burned her mouth.

"Gar did most of the work." It figured. They were having pasta and veggies. There was a beat of silence all around the table, a settling of hush and wait for the words to follow, which as none came, morphed into something oppressive but empty all at once. One could almost hear the echo of the missing words as every ear strained to hear them, strained towards Raven and the steady lisp of air made by her breathing. But she would not thank him for dinner, not even as she felt every mind in the room slowly try to compress the acknowledgement from her throat.

She admired the flowers.

Out of the corner of her eye, Raven saw Robin fidget. She knew the divided atmosphere had set off some kind of alarm in his brain. Right then she could see him trying to assess the situation, to find the pipe in the plumbing that was causing this buildup of pressure. She wasn't the one responsible. She had nothing to hide, but even so she felt her hand shake ever so slightly as it lifted the fork to her mouth. It was when Garfield did the unexpected that she completely lost her cool, if only for a second, but that was enough to bring Robin's attention zeroing in on her.

"I'm sorry Starfire. The flowers are lovely but I can't see Raven's face."

Her jaws locked, and her eyes peered up carefully to watch those green hands shift the vase to the right. Then there was the edge of his hair, a pointed ear, an eyebrow, a nose, and finally two eyes staring her in the face with a pleasant expression, while six other eyes shifted curiously between the two of them. She felt it as each glance hit her and ricocheted off her expression to land on Gar's face.

"Thank you Garfield. I saw them at the supermarket." Starfire responded politely. Raven vaguely heard the other murmurs of approval around the table. She was turning a pretty pink color right about now. She felt the blooming heat on her face, felt the stares, felt the indignity of the entire situation all working against her, when the only thing she guilty of doing was enjoying her goddamn dinner.

"Oh for christsakes…" she muttered pushing her chair back with a noise that made everyone wince.

She seemed to be doing that a lot. Getting irritated or confused or overwhelmed and then pushing her chair back to tell the world she had had enough and wasn't going to take it anymore. But in the end it was petulant, and in the end she was only running from the situation she had helped create. She had made a place for herself in the world but it no longer offered her the comfort she wanted.

So now, with the chair pushed back from the table and her half standing figure trembling from restraint, she closed her eyes, and sat back down, and decided that she better learn to damn well deal with the way things were. Was it a turning point in her life? Hardly. But she had chosen to stay instead of run which, in everyone's eyes, was a very very unRaven-like thing to do.

--

Robin always made them wash dishes by hand. Something about bonding and teamwork and all the usual nonsense he was trying to push on them… A relationship with everybody was required in other words. Not that Robin expected them all to sit around and braid each others' hair while divulging their deepest secrets. But he made them team up to do the little things, like laundry, grocery shopping and dishes. Sometimes it was nice, more of a pleasure than a requirement. Other times however…

"Gar, use a different towel to dry them please. That one's sopping wet." She ordered after pausing to sigh at the whole situation.

The tense atmosphere at dinner had sent off a warning signal in Robin's brain much to Raven's disappointment and as always he seemed to think that shoving the conflicting ends of a magnet together was the best way to dissolve the resistance. So after a few of the Titans had risen from the dinner table he was quick to assign dishes to both Garfield and herself.

Gar was rather pleased at the notion and wasn't afraid to let his face show it. Raven however, had froze and swallowed down a firestorm of profanity, trying to act as nonchalant as she could about the entire thing. But the main source of her misery came from the fact that all the others, sensing a potentially dangerous situation, had left the common room immediately leaving both of them alone…. together.

She closed her eyes as she ran the sponge over the dish she was holding and tried to remember a time, which seemed so long ago, when there didn't seem to be this confusing knot of emotion in her body. She focused on her irritation, the unjust feeling in her heart, and the flow of water over the plate as she rinsed it.

Gar, meanwhile, stood besides her humming rather cheerfully as he dried the dishes with unneeded flourishes. It wasn't until the repetitive tune became irritating that she chose to speak.

"Could you at least pretend to be miserable, just for my sake?" She snapped. The humming stopped abruptly and out of the corner of her eye she saw him give her a quizzical look.

"Why on Earth would I do that? Besides, you're doing a pretty good job making enough misery for the both of us." He smiled at her as he talked, serving only to irritate her more.

Cocky bastard.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm just looking for a little compassion and understanding after all you've put me through." She seethed.

It might have occurred to her at this point that she had dared to speak more of her mind than she had originally intended, but at this point desperation and anger had made her tongue loose. He pursed his lips at this and seemed to focus on the dish he was drying.

"You…." He began slowly, uncertainly, as if slowly realizing the words as they formed in his mind.

"…confuse me."

Raven's hand stopped scrubbing for a fraction of a second as something new took a hold of her mind. It was a spark of curiosity, a twinge of interest. However, she managed to maintain the sound of irritation in her voice as she spoke. She'd sooner be damned than allow him to know she was interested.

"So in order to appease some sort of weird curiosity about me, you decide to torture me." She concluded for him.

"What? No!"

"And why do I confuse you? I assure you it's not something I consciously do."

Having hardly recovered from the previous accusation, Gar paused and scratched his head while he seemed to consider her question. The hair was tousled and damp where his hand had been she noted.

"I'm not so sure if I can answer that. Well, not in a way that would make either of us happy I guess. Because I know if I'm not careful you'll get angry, which usually leads to me getting beat up and shunned for a few days. So you see…" He trailed off as if hoping that his situation made sense to her with the vague words he had spoken.

"I'm not a plaything." She told him coldly.

"I don't consider you one, my dear." The end of that sentence made her flinch slightly and Gar took notice.

"You're very funny about those things…" He noted cautiously. Raven picked up the next dish and rubbed at it hard, suddenly irritated again now that Gar's empty answer had failed to satisfy the strange, burning curiosity he had instilled in her.

"What things?" She asked, playing ignorant.

"Terms of endearment, anything that comes with a close relationship."

"From what I can see, the close relationship is pretty one-sided."

This seemed to ruffle him a bit, and as he spoke he gave her an indignant look.

"Well now, whose fault is that?" He accused.

Raven felt the question slide right off her. She was busy rejoicing in the fact that she had made him angry. And it was so much better than that grin and confident tone he was always giving her. She was soothed for a moment knowing he was irritated with her, knowing she wasn't the only one suffering. The simple shrug she gave in response was enough to make him frown in anger.

"Godamnit, it's stuff like this that makes me wonder why I even bother with you." He muttered. The bitterness in his voice thrilled her, filled her with a satisfaction she hadn't felt in a long time. She was suddenly reckless with her words and didn't care.

"Good. Maybe you shouldn't bother." She retorted smartly while simultaneously handing him a new dish to dry.

He took it from her gently and she watched is the droplets trailed down the shiny, white circular surface, watched as he set it down on the counter and how the droplets came together to form small puddles on it. He didn't dry it, just stood there, staring off at something she couldn't see, while all the irritation she had caused him drained from his face.

Then suddenly his warm, green hands were taking the sponge from her fingers and setting it down beside the plate. She watched him cautiously, suddenly frightened at his calmness, a protest already building up in her throat. He turned her to face him, not roughly but with gentle guiding hands on her shoulder, each individual finger giving off a soft pressure that turned her towards him.

Her mind panicked and her body lost resistance. She became a prisoner of his regard, a captive audience.

He watched her closely, never blinking as he lowered his face towards hers, not a trace of hesitation in those eyes or in that slow swooping motion.

The fear was incredible.

She was sure it would kill her with the way it was bubbling out of her stomach and filling her throat, her nostrils, and her lungs. It pulsed in her blood, infected the air she breathed until she could think of nothing but her slowly dying body.

Her eyes saw his lips and she found herself hating them, then hating herself for wanting them on her. She had completely ceased to breathe when he was within inches of her face, her eyes locked with his which were much too inquisitive and round and… and beautiful, in a way that made her wits betray her.

But he had paused she realized, paused to stare into her eyes, and she knew he was watching the shadows of her soul shift beneath them. The terror rose as she felt her body shift towards him. She felt it yearn for the touch of something separate from herself, felt it want and need and ache for the removal of that small rift between them. But the fear was her poison and her protection.

She could not close the gap.

"I see now." He whispered. The words and the scent of the breath they were carried on made her tremble. She felt it like a gentle caress on her face.

"You are a child."

The tone was not condescending or bitter. But it flowed with a beauty and simplicity which could only be found in truth.

--

The seasons changed, as they must, bringing the first snowfall of the year and along with it the rough contrast between the warmth of the indoors and the biting chill of the outside air. It was now rare to look outside without seeing patches of white somewhere on the landscape. The snow, when it fell, was beautiful and the chill at night had gotten to the point where the warmest and softest of blankets had to be used.

This was always a wonderful time for Raven. She loved the crisp air, loved the how the warmth inside the tower made everything feel safer and everyone feel closer, and loved the way the snow looked as she watched it fall silently in the night outside her bedroom window. Generally, she would be cheerier than usual, doling out small smiles like favors to her friends, and even going so far as to join in almost every evening for small talk and company comfort in the common room. The change in her attitude was always welcomed by her friends and she had lived with them for so many years that it had simply become synonymous with the arrival of winter.

But even after the snow came, and the chill settled over the city, and the blankets were dug out of the closet, Raven still didn't change. She didn't feel it all like she normally did. The warmth was evasive and the cold penetrated her right down into her core so that it felt like she was always a little bit frozen on the inside. The white of the snow only seemed to make her world feel barren and empty and for the first time in her life she wished for warmer days.

Of course, it had absolutely nothing to do with the way Garfield had been avoiding her. Well, perhaps the word "avoiding" was incorrect because he wasn't exactly going out of his way to stay away from her. He was often with her, sometimes even alone with her. But he might have been on a different plane of existence for all the communication he had with her. She could sense some kind of wide space between them. The space of strangers or of relatives who were united only by blood and nothing more.

Was that it then? She wondered. Was she only bound to this man by the alliance she had formed with the team? These thoughts were frequent and rampant in her mind, and served only to chill her on the sleepless nights they often produced. Her life lacked a vigor she had taken for granted. It had all the appearance of what she had ever wanted, but none of the satisfaction or happiness she thought it would bring. Instead it was….lonely. And to call it boring would definitely not be an exaggeration of any degree.

But because of her pride she pined away in silence over the weeks that passed, feeling herself grow dull and seeing her world turn muted shades of gray. She lost herself to a monotony which was managing to both kill her and protect her with its thoughtless patterns of motion. She didn't have to think in order to function, which meant she didn't need to feel anything to survive. She felt her childhood closer than ever at that moment.

Her only amusement these days was the irony.

_End Session #5_

**A/N:** Summertime generally equals frequent updates. If not, I beg you to flame me. Frequent means weekly of course. I'm open to critique, suggestions, compliments, complaints, and anything you feel compelled to tell me. It doesn't even have to relate to the story. You can call me fat or whatnot, I'm open to all opinions.

Thanks for reading and as always, I apologize for typos. I'm also a bit comma-happy today…


	6. Session 6

**A/N: **Tada! See? Not dead yet!

_Session 6_

She was feeling decidedly queer.

The wind blew right through her wool cloak no matter how tightly she wrapped it around herself and the air felt icy thin. Starfire, noting the shivers that wracked Raven's body every now and then, suggested that she go back to the police station to warm up for a bit, but the kindness was slightly offending.

She refused to be the only one not searching.

They had gotten a call that morning from the local police department who sheepishly informed them that an inmate had escaped from the city prison last night and that they might need some help tracking him down. Nothing special, just a man guilty of two murders involving drug money. Another failure who had gotten scared or desperate or both and finally pulled the trigger he swore he never would.

And now he was back on the streets in the middle of one of the coldest days they'd had all year. What an unlucky son of a bitch.

Raven shook her head and hated him for the way the snow was filling up her boots.

She watched from beneath her hood as Robin checked the map on his communicator while everyone else waited silently for their directions. Talking was scarce as everyone saved their breath to warm their hands instead. A large cloud of smoky air billowed from Robin's nose, signaling a long sigh.

"We'll follow the usual search procedures. You each have your areas assigned to you. And I've been informed that this man has no surviving family and no permanent street address. Chances are good he's staying warm in some public facility." Robin glanced up to recognize each of their nodding heads.

"His picture has been sent to your communicator to help you verify his face. Signal me if you find him and be careful. He's probably not armed but don't let your guard down."

And with that Robin dismissed them, taking care to meet each miserable pair of eyes before taking off on his motorcycle. The others broke away from the huddle with barely a mutter or sigh.

Raven stood for a moment to watch their backs fade into the foggy distance, then she turned, walked a few feet in the crunchy snow and was swallowed by darkness. It wrapped itself around her, thick and heavy but the substance provided her with no warmth.

Chilled and aching, she imagined the public square before her, thought about the shops, the pavement, the trees, every minute detail until it was crystal clear in her mind, like she was looking out a window. It hovered there before her, a small door out of the darkness. Unwillingly she urged herself towards it, feeling the physical world return as her shoes pressed against the pavement. The darkness at the edge of her vision faded.

People, startled by her teleportation, shied away and then, regaining their composure, gave her embarrassed smiles. Feeling dull from the cold, Raven began to walk. She took routine glances at each bench, stairway and building corner, her eyes sweeping the scenery for a huddle figure, a sleeping figure, or anyone who wasn't hurrying to get out of the cold.

Dumb bastard, she mumbled under her breath. The curse became a misty cloud before her face which quickly dissolved.

She walked on.

---

He was never a man of few words. When he spoke he often did so to fill up silence, like it was an empty glass or something and Gar could never stand emptiness. So he poured his nonsense into it, talking and taking up air with his sound until it was brimming between them. But when he stopped it emptied again, with all his efforts draining out of the hole that was her apathy.

Time and failure had taught him well and Raven began to see the realization in his eyes. But he didn't hate her because of her apathy like everyone else was prone to do. Instead he singled it out and called it the enemy; he treated it as her disease like she was some beautiful soul inflicted with a horrible case of an uncaring personality.

At some point along the line he must have understood that his mindless chatter was useless and so he changed tactics, called forth an arsenal of concise reasoning that Raven had never knew existed within him, and shot the disease in the heart.

"You are a child," he told her. And suddenly she was the small person behind the screen pulling levers and pushing buttons to control the Great Raven of Titan Tower. His four words shattered the illusion of a lifetime and stole from her an identity she had become to believe.

With a breath of truth, the great sham fell to ruin.

---

Under a pale sun she continued to search, her boots punching holes into the freshly fallen snow. There were only few footprints leading this direction, but her designated area also included a large park. She was tempted for a moment to move on and look elsewhere, but Robin would suspect something if she finished too quickly. Grudgingly she walked under the brick archway, following a hidden path into the trees.

---

Neither of them cried much. He, because he detested sadness. She, because she detested any strong emotion at all.

Raven had not known him to bend easily under the weight of depression or lost hopes. He was an optimist, the person who was always there with some upbeat phrase or comment no matter how dire the situation, like a band aid for a serious injury. Whenever there was a chance for success or survival he clung to it and beat them all over the head with it to remind them that it existed.

Nobody ever thanked him for that. Probably because no one wanted to admit that they were weak enough to stop hoping.

However, she had seen him cry. She had seen him stand before her and completely lose himself. To her it had always been a sign of weakness. And yet he had had the indecency to stand there before all of them and weep openly. He had let the tears run down the slopes of his face, let the sobs wrack his body and amidst all of the sorrow and snot and tears he had shamed them.

She could not look at him. She could only look at that stone statue of the girl he had loved and wonder about the power and conviction that lay in his heart. For that moment, broken was beautiful and weakness was strength.

---

She walked on, tearing apart the landscape with her eyes. She was a machine, rooting through the nooks and crannies of the trees for anything resembling a human form. But her mind was not there as she searched. It was elsewhere, busy with memories and stray thoughts which it attended to almost every waking moment of the day. It was logical however. Her present existence was dull and colorless so her mind sought the past with renewed vigor. Had her life become so routine that conscious attendance to everyday tasks was not longer required? It seemed that way, yet as much as she hated it there was still a part of her that found comfort in that stagnant lifestyle.

There was no fear of surprise, no fear of emotional overload, no fear of demands that she couldn't meet. After all, with the way Garfield was ignoring her, he was good as gone…

---

She didn't understand family. The others, they knew to some extent what it meant and she felt that knowledge separated her from them.

Cyborg had a picture of his family in his room by his bed which had never seemed real to her. Of course it wasn't her family but the picture didn't mean anything to her the way she felt it should. There was suppose to be a warm feeling somewhere in there squashed between a young Victor and his parents and siblings. There was suppose to be comfort and belonging and meaning, but if any of these things existed she decided it must be hidden somewhere behind their smiles.

Or perhaps these things were implied. Maybe the camera couldn't take a picture of that warmth. Maybe that warmth was supposed to come out of her and flow into the picture and not the reverse. Her own memories were cold, dark creatures that flitted about in her mind, and never came out if she could help it.

Garfield didn't have pictures of his family. He didn't have stories or childhood mementos. But something told her he had known a mother's embrace, known a father's encouragement. She was sure of it, especially when she had found him solemn and quiet one day a few months back.

He had been distracted. His eyes had the look of someone who was lost or confused. When he looked at her, he was looking inward, searching. She hadn't understood until the next day when she saw the calendar on the fridge as she was putting away the milk. The words "Mother's Day" caught her eye and she frowned. She frowned because it meant something to him and nothing to her.

---

The snow here was untouched. She watched her boots as they punched holes in it and thought about all these little moments in her life. She was wondering about her future when she came across a bench that had a lump on it. It was partially concealed by snow but she could clearly make out a human shape under the blankets and rags and white powder. Her heart rate increased a little as she walked closer, and her hand went to pull out the yellow communicator at her belt. She put it to her lips and pushed down the button to radio in.

"I've found a homeless man on the north side of Lake View Park. He's sleeping on a bench but his face is turned away from me so I'm not sure if it's the criminal or not."

The man didn't stir at the sound of her voice or her footsteps. She paused as Robin's voice came on.

"I've found nothing in my area. You're not far from my location so I'm heading over."

Raven acknowledge him, before putting away her communicator and cautiously stepping forward.

"Sir, please get up and keep your hands where I can see them." She called out. The lump didn't stir. Raven repeated her request a little louder. She was feeling nervous and cold which confused her.

"Sir!" She was close enough to reach out and touch him now. Her hand went forward to nudge the man in the back. There was no response and something was starting to happen to her mind, but she wasn't focusing on it.

She shook him gently, then roughly. The snow was falling off him and her heart was pounding, making her breathless. She had to wake him up so that she could take him back to the police station. Franticly, she rolled him over and continued to shake him violently.

Her eyes saw the blue lips and eyelids and pale cheeks. She saw that the face matched the definition of the criminal. She saw it all and knew somewhere in her head what was wrong, but for some reason that information was having a hard time reaching the front of her mind. Instead, Raven continued to shake the man, grabbing him by the front of his clothes and wrenching her hands back and forth. She was panting and lightheaded and confused but somehow she felt that if she could wake him up it would be okay.

That was how Robin found her, kneeling over this man and shouting urgently to him. And suddenly Robin's gloved hands were gently prying her fingers off his clothes and pulling her away and telling her quietly but firmly what was wrong and why she needed to stop.

But there was a thin wall in her brain and whatever he was saying was being kept away by that wall. After all, if it got through then there was no hope for her.

She wished he would leave her alone if he wasn't going to shut up and help her, so she fought him and yelled franticly as everything in her brain became white static. It drowned out the sound of his voice and her voice which she knew was shouting, but if she could just wake up that man and take him home then everything would be fine and she would be fine and…

It wasn't until Robin grabbed her shoulders and told her flatly that the man was dead that everything dissolved at once.

"He's dead." He repeated.

Her eyes slowly settled on the serene, marble face of death and she screamed.

Because it was her face, and she was the one that was dead.

She had died alone, with nothing, with no one. Her body had been found and people had shaken their heads because it was such a shame. And those people put her in the cold earth and lived without her. Loved without her. Remembered nothing of her because she gave them nothing of herself to remember.

She was dead and someone was screaming.

--

She was eating cereal in kitchen and half-heartedly flipping through the newspaper.

It was a pretty boring Saturday morning and the other Titans were either still in bed or relaxing somewhere in the tower. Raven liked having a schedule so she made a point of waking up at a decent time and having breakfast before doing some morning meditation.

She didn't hear the sound of footsteps through the crunching of the cereal in her mouth so she was a little surprised when Gar plunked down in the chair next to her looking disheveled but well-rested. He asked her for the comics, which she gave him, and they sat there in the silence reading.

For a while she let her eyes lose focus of the words and quietly enjoyed the morning: the cereal in her mouth, the smell of the newspaper, the soft noise of Garfield's breathing, and his warm presence. It was all very enjoyable, and as the moment stretched on she thought about how wonderful it would be to look forward to this every morning. This kind of thinking was unusual for her, but a lot of unusual things were happening in her life. She was getting tired of struggling against them.

There was talk around the tower. They were whispering things to each other. Raven hadn't heard the words, but she knew from their glances that they were more curious than concerned. She smiled a little to herself when she caught them in the act.

The attention was pleasing. It was different. It wasn't the normal fear and disapproval she was used to, but something entirely new.

The corner of Gar's mouth twitched in amusement as he read. She liked his lopsided smirk she had decided. His hand went down to scratch absentmindedly at his crotch and Raven frowned and rolled her eyes.

Some things never changed.

He set the comics down and leaned back in his chair to stretch. Raven watched him without bothering to hide her staring eyes. Feeling her gaze, he dropped his arms and turned to look back at her. He was confused, but smiled at her anyway.

"Your hair looks funny."

He laughed a little and the corners of his eyes crinkled pleasantly. He would have wrinkles there when he got older, she thought. Would she have them too? After all, he smiled and laughed a lot more than she did...

"Your hair probably looks the same way when you get up in the morning," he teased. Raven hid a smile and shrugged, wondering where this casual atmosphere had come from. She was so used to feeling stressed and on alert whenever he was around, but right now she was calm… relaxed.

"I hope I get to see it someday." He winked and Raven felt a butterfly tease the inside of her stomach. But when the fluttering sensation faded she was left with a pleasant warmth that gave way to a soft hum.

Thing were going to be okay, she thought.

For the first time in a long time Raven felt secure about herself. Garfield was still an unknown, and she could never hope to know what he would do next or how he would continue to change, but there was a part of her that was beginning to accept that. He must have sensed the change in her because now he was talking to her again.

There were smiles and winks that made her warm, and a glow to his eyes that she didn't think she would see again. Sometimes he whispered to her, even when no one was around, and occasionally he would touch her arm or shoulder lightly when he spoke.

She let him do it. She didn't cause fuss or friction. And right now, as he stood up and ruffled her hair before heading to the fridge, Raven began to understand something.

And outside the window the snow was beginning to melt.

**A/N:** Another new chapter, looong overdue. Mm, and yes, there was a chunk of time cut out between the search scene and the breakfast scene. It'll be filled in later, don't worry. Hope it's not getting boring but I promise, we'll get to the good stuff soon enough. : )


	7. Session 7

**Author's note:**

It's been a while. But here you go. I'm out of the habit of writing so I'm afraid this chapter will seem a little different than the others but I hope it's nonetheless enjoyable! Reviewers were asking for more interaction with other team members so I threw that in here too. Also, if you haven't figured this out already, I love dragging on Raven and Gar's relationship tension as much as possible. So if you feel like slapping me at any point for always causing problems between them, it's probably deserved.

Cheers!

* * *

She was going to kill him.

That is, if he didn't annoy her to death first. With her mouth set in a firm and angry line she picked herself off the floor for the sixth time that day, knowing full well that her poor performance in afternoon training had little to do with lack of skill and had a lot to do with distraction. Garfield was spending his free moments smirking at her and shooting her winks from the other side of the room. Robin, however, seemed blind to it all, mostly focusing his attentions on critiquing Raven's form and techniques. To say the ordeal was frustrating would be an understatement.

"Your movements are slow, you're hesitating and you're far too stiff."

She could feel sweat dripping down her legs, the salt making her chaffed knees burn. She was sick of being dumped on the floor.

"Gar, please take this seriously." Robin was resetting his stopwatch, apparently not completely oblivious to Garfield's ridiculous antics. He was currently doing handstands and making faces at her.

It was an attempt to rile her up. Make her angry. Make her a little ruthless. He wanted to play with her, fully aware that sweaty hand-to-hand combat was Raven's least favorite exercise due to her obvious issues with personal space. And Gar's wandering hands weren't helping either. However, these discomforts were now looking smaller and smaller in comparison to her larger goal of beating the ever loving shit out of him.

"Again! And Raven, stop hesitating and letting him corner you. More offense!"

Gar flashed her a toothy smile as he crouched low to ground, leaving her to imagine him as some predatory animal. She saw him tense, and her own muscles followed his example as Robin raised the whistle to his lips.

A high pitch shrill hit her ears and she was propelled forward by her fury and frustration. They clashed midway, and Raven found herself once again closer to him than she originally anticipated. His foot came forward, attempting to sweep her feet again, but she let her weight carry her backwards, throwing her leg up as she did in an attempt to deliver a roundhouse kick to his temple. She watched as his eyes darted to the side, catching her movement and raising his arm to block. She quickly pulled her leg back before he could grab it and he took that opportunity to charge towards her again.

He would punch at her face, she knew, to distract her. But this time she was ready.

Raven ignored the feint to her head, and instead took that opportunity to deliver her own punch to his middle. Her concentration was intense, taking in as much sensory data as possible: the shift of his body, the air from the movement of his attacks, the slightest tensing of his muscles. She had to read it all and react.

Her hand shot forward and she felt a burst of confidence as he backed away, but it soon turned sour as she felt his hand clamp down on her fist. A string of curses ran through her brain on instinct and surely enough she could feel the helpless sensation spread through her as he twisted her wrist trying to bring her around to dump her on the floor again. She could feel his glee as all the control shifted into his hands which were intent on bringing her closer to him and all the sweat and heat that encompassed him.

Raven's immediate instinct was to pull away, to withdraw into herself and get away from the demanding and ruthless body attempting to invade her space. But the previous six encounters with the mat told her that perhaps this time should be different. Her anger was still predominant enough at this point to override her instincts and so, with an uncharacteristically devilish burst of decision making, Raven allowed the strong arm to pull her around.

She flowed towards him and his body, not accustom to handling a willing victim, yanked her back hard with an expectation of resistance. She collided with him firmly, her back to his chest. And despite the sudden overwhelming sensation of heat that spread across her body, and very strong scent of sweat and male, Raven's spirit gave a giddy jolt because she could feel his shock and sudden paralysis. She felt his muscles tense against her, felt his shallow breath on the back of her neck.

A brief second of his hesitation was all she needed to deftly (and with a small prayer of gratitude for her short stature) bend forward and throw him over her shoulder. His weight rolled across her shoulder and hit the mat with a satisfying smack. She was gloriously pleased with herself. He looked up at her from where he lay at her feet with a bemused expression that betrayed his obvious confusion as to how the world had suddenly inverted itself. While Raven was savoring her revenge Robin's voice suddenly cut in over the warm buzz currently melting through her body.

"Excellent timing Raven and it was nice to see you use his attacks to your advantage. Finally you're getting it." Robin let a smile spread across his normally serious expression. She liked the way it warmed his features and she felt her face glow slightly under his praise. Normally she'd brush off the compliments as either false or degrading but this new outlook she was trying to adopt was simply another part of her attempt to live differently. To live more fully. Even if that meant something as small as accepting a compliment.

She gave a bow of her head, watching out of the corner of her eye as Gar picked himself gingerly off the mat, all the while flashing her dangerous looks. He'd have a bruised shoulder to go along nicely with his bruised ego.

"Okay, thanks you two. That's enough for today," said Robin as he wrapped up the stopwatch and put it in his pocket. A strange silence followed his statement and Raven realized Gar was uncommonly quiet which somehow filled her with an annoying need to say something, if just to kill the vacuum Robin's words had created. Pushing away her usual shyness, she made her way over to Robin, all the while trying to ignore the blanket of awkwardness which seemed to have descended on the room.

"What is Victor making for dinner?" The question tumbled out, harmless enough but in a voice foreign to her ears. Small talk was a skill she rarely exercised.

"Spaghetti, I think. At least I hope so. I'm starved and pasta sounds amazing right now." Raven hummed in agreement, feeling the familiar shyness creep up on her. They were heading out the door with Gar somewhere in tow behind them. Raven nervously pushed her mussed hair behind her ears.

"I should... cook next week. For everyone." The announcement of her idea seemed to roll over Robin like a small wave. He seemed stunned, then softened and with a genuinely heartfelt smile he turned to look at her.

"I think we'd all love that."

"I've never cooked before. Please don't feel obligated to eat it if the meal is disastrous." Robin gave a small laugh.

"You can always get help. Victor and Gar are both pretty good cooks. I'm sure they wouldn't mind giving you some tips."

Somewhere behind them a door opened and shut. Raven turned to look behind her, half surprised by the empty hallway. She shouldn't have felt the sting of disappointment in her chest. He was just being childish after all. But here she was offering something, something personal and new and fragile, something he had tried to pull out of her for years and, of all times, he chose now to disappear.

"Gar seems moodier than usual." Robin noted with a grimace. Raven shrugged as if trying to convince him that she didn't mind. It didn't hurt. Just like the bruise on her hip. If she didn't think about it too much it really wasn't that painful. There would have been a time, she thought, not too long ago when she would have ignored him, or taken pleasure in angering him. But right now, especially with the way he had been acting towards her lately, it was difficult to ignore his slight snub.

"He's probably just upset about how you flipped him. He hates losing at anything."

"Yeah, probably something like that." Another shrug. Raven suddenly realized that her nonchalance was having the opposite intended effect on Robin. It just made him more aware of how much she was bothered by Gar's mood.

"I'm sure he'll be fine by dinner. You know Gar, he can't help but act like a preteen sometimes."

"Hey listen," she said quietly. "I know you like to watch out for me but really I'm okay. In fact I'm doing a lot better these days. Better than I ever was before. It's going to take more than one of Gar's tantrums to throw me back into my old scary self." The words felt a little awkward coming out of her mouth but maybe that was only because it was the truth. Somehow putting the truth into words was a lot harder than even the most elaborate lie.

"Yeah..." Robin sighed. He scratched the back of his head a little nervously. "I know, it's just habit I guess. And you're never scary. Just... kind of unpredictable." He gave a short laugh, trying to lighten his words. It was always easier to belittle the past, and Raven knew he would never admit to how much she had hurt them at times with her callousness. She was thankful for that. Though at times she marveled at her friends' capacity for forgiveness.

"So you prefer boring, predictable Raven?" Raven drawled in her usual monotone. Robin shook his head.

"I prefer happy, sociable Raven. The unpredictably only becomes a bad thing when repair fees and ambulances are involved."

"So you're saying I can feel free to be as unpredictable as I'd like so long as both Gar and the light fixtures stay intact." Raven surmised.

"Exactly." Raven didn't miss the smirk on his face. She was also enjoying the banter.

"I might not be able to promise the former." She warned him. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, with the smile still twitching on his lips.

"I don't know, you better watch out for him. You're not the only one around here who's showing a change of heart." Raven didn't know quite how to take that comment, heck she didn't know what it was about it that suddenly made it feel like gravity had increased tenfold. But she felt the defensiveness come back. The walls were up again and Robin and his fading smirk were on the other side of it.

"Hey now, no need to get so stiff. I'm just teasing."

"I'm aware." She heard the ice in her tone but couldn't find it in herself to care. Their footsteps were quickly bringing them to the end of the hallway where they would part ways and Raven was relieved upon realizing it. Robin let out a sigh and slowed his pace. She knew he was trying to prevent her from escaping so soon and his efforts to do so annoyed her.

"I know Gar still has a lot of growing up to do." He told her bluntly. Raven's eyebrow inched upward in response. She still wasn't sure where he was going with this. Or how far has was going with it.

"You mean he's not the mature, upstanding, respectable man I've grown to know and love?" Perhaps the sarcasm was a little too thick.

"Raven, your sarcasm only tells me that what I'm saying bothers you." Yeah, it had been a little too much for Robin's taste. His voice had gone from light and playful to serious and if she wasn't careful a lecture would soon follow. She was used to his transformations, from friend and team mate to captain and father figure.

"Or maybe it should tell you that you're stating the obvious." Robin stiffened, then sighed, seeming to let go of whatever reprimanding phrase he had wanted to deliver. His next words came out in a more defeated tone.

"Okay yes, he's immature. I know it and you know it and I know you know it but that's not the point I'm trying to make." Raven paused and gave him a stare which she hoped would convey the blank slate she was drawing in her mind. This only seemed to exasperate him further.

"Look, just don't ever think that he's... "

"..."

"...don't believe he's something he's not. He can act mature and walk the walk and talk the talk but deep down he's just as clueless as-"

"Robin. The day I believe Garfield Logan is a mature individual is the day they ship me off to Arkham Asylum." Robin cleared his throat nervously, or perhaps he was preparing himself for whatever piece of useless, yet thoughtful, advice he was going to give her next. Honestly, she didn't like this conversation at all. It made her feel like he knew things she didn't and if there was anything that she prided herself on more than anything it was good insight and keen observational skills. But despite this, for some reason Robin had felt that it was in her best interest to give her words of warning on behalf of Garfield's character. Why now out of all times? What could be going on under that spikey black-haired head of his? She felt his nervousness, his awkwardness, and yet she also felt a strong sense of... what was it? Protectiveness? This, oddly enough, made her bristle with annoyance.

"I don't need you looking out for me." She told him flatly. There had been a beat between them and Raven felt her words erase the previous warmth that had been between them a few minutes ago. He looked at her for a moment, as if trying to read something behind the rejection but apparently he could find nothing. His head turned away from her and then he spoke.

"Raven, I will always respect your wishes because I know, and you know, that when it comes down to it, I really have no choice. You never take anything that is offered to you and you think that this shows strength. And if there is one thing we have in common, it is our hatred for weakness, especially in ourselves. So as a friend, and as a person who knows that hatred, I want to tell you that knowing when to accept advice is not a weakness. I have harmed not only myself but others because I rejected guidance when it was given to me. Don't make that mistake."

He was walking down the hallway away from her when Raven turned to look at him again. Deep in her gut she felt an old hurt begin to pulse.

* * *

The cold water from the showerhead made her feel like screaming. But she clamped her jaw and stood rigid under the blinding flow of water until the numbness slowly took her. Raven hadn't taken a cold shower in ages but today, with her mind in a muddy mess from Gar's bipolar behavior and Robin's words, she needed the shock of clarity that only this icy sensation could provide. It stole the breath from her lungs and made her skin prickle painfully but at least her mind was busy protesting about the cold instead of driving her crazy. It was, if she had to compare it to anything, a quick and dirty substitute for meditation.

Raven stood there a minute longer before letting out a shaky breath and grabbing the soap. Another minute and she was out of the freezing water and standing on the cold tiles outside the shower stall. As she stood there shivering, Raven began to wonder if this had been such a great idea after all. She had definitely managed to clear her mind for the scant five minutes she had spent in the shower but she knew that once the warmth started to seep back into her body (which didn't seem to be happening too quickly) then the annoying buzz of her thoughts and emotions would return as well.

Raven didn't want to think about Robin's words or his implications about Gar, or the way he had looked at her, almost with... pity or some equally disgusting emotion. She angrily rubbed at her limbs with the towel before pulling on her bathrobe. It wasn't fair of him to assume such things about her, despite his friendly intentions. To her it had just felt wrong and uncomfortable. There was nothing going on between her and Gar, and nothing she needed warning about.

And yet, as she yanked a brush through her hair, there were small things nagging at her from the back of her mind. Things like the moments when Gar held her gaze for far too long or how he never left a room before she did. But it wasn't as if she had fallen for him like some ditzy schoolgirl! He had been the one to tease her, to find opportunities for casual touches, to push her up against bookcases, to... Well, in any case she never initiated any of these encounters and the acceleration of her heart rate could hardly be helped. It was a natural response and nothing else.

Throwing her towel in the hamper she exited the bathroom, pulling the robe tighter around her form as the cold air from the hallway hit her skin. He could push her all he wanted but in the end truthfully, as she had promised Robin, they would throw her in the crazy house before she ever considered Gar mature enough to take him seriously. Then of course, he just had to be leaning there against the wall.

There were a lot of things wrong with this situation, was the first thought that came to Raven's mind when she saw him. To begin with, he had the look on him of a person who had been waiting for someone. There was also the casual way he was resting there with his back against the wall, somehow managing to look both dangerous and calm in the same instant. She also noticed that he didn't look hurried or nervous or agitated in anyway, as if her appearance had no effect on him, that she had simply happened to come around the corner as he had known she would. But there was no eagerness associated with her arrival, he was relaxed as if they had all the time in the world.

However, the thing that was most wrong with this situation was how when their eyes met she saw that he was aware of it all.

"Gar." She had meant to say his name in greeting but it left her lips sounding more like a note of warning.

"Heya, Rae." He drawled. The voice had a smile in it but the mouth was unreadable.

"I have a feeling you're up to no good, as usual." This drew a small chuckle from him. His body lengthened before her as he stood up straight away from the wall.  
"Yup, just standing here, plotting all kinds of mischief." Raven felt an ounce of relief pass through her as he made the joke. Perhaps she was overly tense from earlier and it was making her paranoid.

"Well, then it's a good thing I know I can kick your ass if I need to." She saw a small muscle twitch in his face as said this.

"Eh, you were just lucky that you caught me off guard."

"So are you waiting here just to tell me that my take down was all about luck?"

"Who said I was waiting?"

"Don't be stupid. You know I hate stupid."

"Who said I was waiting for you?" Raven paused here, unsure of how to proceed. It was mostly because Gar was succeeding in making her uncomfortable on many different levels and escape was looking better and better.

"If you're not waiting for me then I'll be off." This was meant to be a good-bye and Raven had even started forward when she felt her body jerk to a stop. It wasn't because he had grabbed her, at least not with his hand.  
"And what if I was waiting for you?" She didn't turn her head to look at him but she responded, keeping her voice as flat as possible.

"Then I would ask you why. And I would also say that this creepy behavior is not very becoming of you."

"Aw, lighten up." She turned to see him scratching the top of his head.  
"If you're worried that I'm here to ambush you and exact my revenge here in the hallway then you can relax."  
"Well that's definitely a relief." He smirked at her.

"Doesn't mean that I'm not asking for a rematch next time. Besides, the view from below doesn't suit you." Raven felt her face color at his words.

"So you're here to heckle me."

"What? No! Just chatting. Dinner's not ready yet."  
"So you're bored. And here to heckle me." He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Geez woman, it's just small talk. Don't get your panties in a bunch." She was about to tell him that she wasn't wearing any, just to be defiant, when she realized how disastrous that would be.

"But I believe you were the one sulking earlier." She pointed it. Raven was also half-hoping he would shed some light on his behavior after practice.

"Not everyone is as keen on talking to Robin as you are." Was it her imagination or was there a hint of anger there in his tone? She was glaring at him, trying to uncover the emotions passing through his eyes but he glanced away from her.

"He's harmless enough."

"Yeah, when he's not chewing your ear off about something or another. That guy delivers lectures like it's his job."  
"It kind of is." She got a disproving look from him that told her she was being too smart with him. Knowing this brought a tiny amount of warmth to her chilled body. She was also beginning to notice how her wet hair was making the back of her neck uncomfortably damp and cold. Gar made a noise halfway between frustration and concession.

"He doesn't always have to be such a dick about it though." It was Raven's turn to roll her eyes.

"Well maybe if you had a team to run you'd think differently." Suddenly it dawned on her that she was defending the guy who had just managed to royally piss her off. Gar scuffed his shoes around on the carpet, watching the lines they made with a distant look on his face. On most people, Raven would have interpreted this as shyness but on Gar it simply looked like boredom. Here she was standing in a cold hallway in a wet bathrobe, chatting with him and he had the nerve to look bored.

"Am I boring you?" Gar glanced up with a surprised expression on his face as if suddenly realizing she was still standing there.  
"Naw, sorry. I was just thinking."

"That's a novel idea."

"Har, har. Like I haven't heard that one before." He was smiling at her now and suddenly Raven become conscious of the fact that she was standing before him in a frumpy robe with disheveled wet hair plastered to her head. It was ridiculous really that she should care about such a thing but despite her best attempts to dismiss the thought it continued to nag her. She crossed her arms nervously. She was unsettled to see his eyes follow the movement.  
"You look clean."

"Yes, Gar. That is usually the goal of a shower. Your observational skills astound me."

He frowned at her, but it was not the frown of annoyance she expected.

"You also look cold. Your fingernails are blue." On second thought, she took back the quip about his observational skills.

"Yes, I'm beginning to doubt your comment about the ambush. I think you secretly meant to trap me here after my shower with meaningless conversation until I froze to death." He laughed at this and gave her a look which she dared not admit was connected to the sudden heart palpitations in her chest.

"You silly, silly thing." He chided. Raven bristled slightly at the act of being called "silly" but this was soon wiped from her attention as Gar's hand, his very, very warm hand, reached forward to wrap around hers. She watched in detached fascination as he fold it between his two palms, rubbing and massaging it lightly to help increase the circulation. She felt warmth, not only in her hand but in various other places on her body, mostly her face. And she secretly damned her pale complexion for, this she certain, turning a telltale pink. Gar, to his credit, kept his gaze on her hand and the task of returning her fingernails to their proper color. It was strange to Raven. This sensation of being taken care of. Not in any big way but just something small and simple like this. It was almost the same way a mother would care for a small child.

Raven was silent for a long while, caught between the desire to simply enjoy the sensation of his skin on hers but also plagued by a thrill of terror that streaked through her mind, urging her to reclaim her hand and walk away. Though he was doing an awfully good job at warming her up.

"Gar."

"Hmm?"

"Perhaps I should go get ready for dinner." The circular motions he was making against her palm ceased and she immediately missed it.

"You're much warmer now." He replied. Raven wasn't sure why he said that but despite how simple it sounded she felt that he had actually told her several things at once. It had also seemed an invitation for her to take back her hand but his hold was firm enough to prevent it. Anger, her faithful companion of many years, was the first emotion to greet her at this discovery.  
"Gar." She said his name carefully so he wouldn't miss the note of warning. His glance moved from her hand to her face so that he was looking up at her from under dark eyebrows.

"Rae." The tone was gentle but uncharacteristically demanding. It managed to shock her for a split second and she could only hope that he hadn't seen the surprise on her face.

"I think you should go." She told him scowling.

"You weren't the only one who took a cold shower after practice today." He wasn't smiling as he told her this and perhaps that's why it sent a shiver through her like a lightning bolt. She watched his face carefully, trying to quell the feeling of insecurity that was starting to descend on her. No words came to her defense, nothing that would pull them out of whatever Gar had brought them into. And yet, everything right now seemed to be teetering on a thin point, all waiting for her response, for whatever slipped past her closed lips. She pursed them, nervous that her voice would betray her, that her body would shake free from the hold of her mind and act out on its own.

Then to her relief and her horror the tension in the air snapped. Suddenly a lot of things were happening very quickly.

She was pulled forward. Then there was the overwarming warmth and firmness of Gar's chest and it felt like she had dived into hot lava, but this was a fire which burned her from the inside out. While thoughts of an alarming nature raced through her mind, his hands were smoothing over the curves of her hips, finding the skin of her thighs right where her robe ended. All the while he was staring hard into her face, eyes almost black with intensity.

But it was his mouth which held her attention for those few seconds. She felt her mouth part and a slow breath escaped her lips. Once again the tidal wave of need crashed over her and once again the terror threatened to overwhelm her. But the sensation wasn't as alien to her now and Raven felt that if she could just hold on a moment longer… her eyes began to close. The hands slipped under the robe and not so surreptitiously came around to grip the flesh of her bare ass.

She yelped, aroused, angered and embarrassed by his actions. The sound of her hand hitting the side of his face made a nice clean sharp sound which echoed in the empty hallway. The expression of shock on his face which she had expected, never came. He looked dazed and confused and in that same period the hands on her ass disappeared.

Oh hell, the damage was done. She could barely think to move away from Gar when her mind was spinning this quickly. But louder than the incessant noise and panic in her brain, was the heavy pounding of her heart. Her palm smarted from her slap and she unclenched her fists which she hadn't even realized she had made. Without thinking she brought her hands up and pushed Gar away from her. His back hit the wall with a soft thud and she saw him wince. The events of the past few minutes seemed to catch up on him then. His eyes widened and in them she saw the fear and the shame and the regret. Just as suddenly, he dropped his gaze to the carpet.

There was a pause. Raven felt a scream trapped somewhere in her throat and a burning sensation behind her eyes. But right now they were both holding their breath, afraid of each passing second and what it might bring. Gar shifted and Raven looked up to see his gaze directed down the hallway. A noise caught her attention and she turned her head to see Starfire staring at them from further down the hall. Her hand was over her mouth and her large green eyes were flickering between her and Gar.

In that moment, Raven felt sick. There had been a witness to this disaster. How much had she seen? Surely she knew and understood what she had stumbled upon. And suddenly Raven found herself thinking "It's not fair. It's not fucking fair." And the mantra repeated itself over and over in her brain, gaining a dangerous momentum. It hadn't been what she wanted and that was the worst part for Raven. She could deal with handholding and flirty comments and the rest of Gar's harmless mischief. But this was something else and she hated it and she hated knowing that Starfire had seen it. Most of all, she hated how his hands had sent that white hot rush of electricity through her veins. The silent standoff between the three Titans was broken by the sound of a sob.

"Raven!" Starfire dropped her hand and glided forward. Uncontrollable gasps were coming from Raven's chest, as if her entire body was trying to wrench itself apart.

"Oh, no no no no…." She could hear Gar say.

"I think you need to leave now." Star's voice, polite as always, was laced with ice.

"Please, Star. I don't know what you saw but I promise-" Another loud sob surprised them all. There were tears too- tears, which were so strange to Raven, burning her eyes and clouding her vision. She felt out of control.

"Leave us." The command was absolute. After that, Gar disappeared.

* * *

She was led away and taken to Starfire's room. Raven sat down on the edge of the bed, still wondering about her tears and why she couldn't for the life of her stop trembling. She was ashamed of herself and felt bad for Starfire but her friend was mercifully silent. She settled on the bed behind Raven and Raven felt slim fingers thread their way through her hair. Starfire wordlessly began to brush back her damp tangled hair. She didn't ask any questions or create any fuss. And as the time passed, Raven's breathing slowed and her headache faded and she began to once again feel in control.

"Star?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you." Starfire's arms came around Raven in a light embrace.

"Thank _you_." Raven heard her murmur. The arms disappeared and Starfire rose from the bed to put the brush away.

"What do I do now?" Raven asked softly. Starfire turned and looked at Raven pensively.

"I am very angry at Garfield for what he did." She said forcefully and her outrage made Raven stiffen.

"But I know he is not a bad person. I think he is only confused." Star acquiesced, though it seemed to Raven that it pained her to say it.

"I feel like it's my fault." Raven whispered. "Because of how I am."

"How you are?" Starfire looked perplexed. In a sweeping, graceful movement she sat herself at Raven's feet and took both Raven's hands in her own. It startled Raven, who was always caught off guard by the force of Star's emotions and the depth of her feelings. Every gesture and word from this girl was done and said with a passion for life. She made everything about her look beautiful in the way that she interacted with it.

"Raven, you are wonderful." Star asserted, giving both her pale hands a small squeeze.

"Gar knows this too which is why he is so madly in love with you."

"Star!" Raven instinctively jerked her hands away. She felt herself blushing again, though she was sure it was partly from anger. It seemed to her now that Starfire was the childish one here, turning this perverse disaster into a love story.

"You're being absurd. He's just playing with me for his own fun." Raven snapped. "It's cruel."

"That is the only way he knows how to be close to you. I did not say he was right to do so." Star seemed mostly unaffected by Raven's irritation. She smiled apologetically and clasped her hands in her lap, making Raven feel a twinge of regret for her outburst. They sat in silence for a moment as Raven thought over Starfire's words.

"It's a terrible way to show it."

"Do you wish for me to talk to him first?"

"No. I'd rather keep it between me and him."

"But you must promise not to ignore him. It is important that you talk."

Raven frowned at the thought of having to face Gar again. Starfire's eyes flashed in response.

"Raven, do not run away from this."

"It just doesn't seem fair…"

"We are not children anymore. Nothing is fair." This statement was far harsher than Raven expected and it caught her off guard. Starfire must have noticed her surprised look because she sighed and closed her eyes.

"Forgive me. I know that for both of us, life never really allowed us to be children." She opened her eyes and looked at Raven in such a way that she felt Star was looking into her. It almost brought goosebumps to her skin, staring into those penetrating green eyes.

"You must think me naïve." Starfire told her softly. "But my secret is that I must find beauty in this world in order for me not to hate it."

Raven could only stare. This was not something she would expect to hear from her friend.

"My past is not a happy one. I have done nothing to deserve the unspeakable things which have happened to me… which have been done to me." Her voice had dropped and become bitter.

"Just as you did not deserve your own hardship." She glanced up at Raven who tried not to betray how much she was unnerved by Star's seriousness.

"But I found that there were things in this universe that could make it bearable. I found friends who cared for me and protected me. A planet where I could live peacefully. A home where I could make a life of my own choosing. And those things are what give me hope and what make me forget my anger and my sadness a little more each day."

"Life is not fair. But we must find in it things which are worth living for." She blinked, as if surprised by her own words and laughed nervously.

"Listen to me- I sound like an old woman." Star tutted. Raven smiled to ease her own nervousness. She wanted to ask her more but dared not pry. Starfire had never really talked about what had happened to her before that day she arrived on Earth, bound in shackles and consumed with destructive rage. They all knew about her vengeful sister and the invasion of her home planet but Starfire kept her past locked up just as tightly as the rest of them. Raven suddenly felt guilty for not realizing this earlier- that maybe they really weren't so different and maybe they were both just trying to cope with their own terrible demons. She felt a sudden kinship with Star at the thought that maybe somebody else could see her as she saw herself. This idea brought an expected warmth to her cheeks.

"If you do, then it is because you are wise like one." Raven told her.

"I hope you are right." She smiled and patted Raven's knee as if to reassure them both.

"Come, let us do something about your wet hair before you catch a cold." She hopped to her dresser draw and began pulling out hairdryers and bows and a variety of colorful knickknacks and thingamajigs.

"We can play makeover like they do on the TV." She teased. And so Starfire went back to her usual cheerful self, sweeping the seriousness of the evening under the rug. But now, even through Star's bubbling laughter and rosy-cheeked smile, Raven could see there was a certain melancholy which had always been in her eyes.

* * *

Gar didn't come to dinner. Nobody raised any questions though Raven raised a lot of eyebrows when she excused herself halfway through dinner and offered to take a plate of pasta to Gar's room. She could have sworn she heard Starfire give a tiny squeak of happy surprise as she got up from her chair.

It was a rather bold move on Raven's part. And the reality of her decision all seemed to come crashing down on her with the force of an imploding supernova as she made her way down the hallway with the spaghetti held firmly in both hands. Twice she almost veered off down another hallway. She tried not to think about the way he had grabbed her butt, because she still wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to him or simply throw the plate of spaghetti straight into his lecherous face.

Then she was at his door and it was too late.

"Don't think," she told herself. "Just knock."

She watched her hand come up, slightly horrified and definitely sure that it was no longer part of her own body.

The sound of her knuckles on the door panel, echoed down the hallway. She waited, straining to hear any noise over the sound of her own heartbeat.

The silence stretched on for an eternity and Raven felt every second of time pass like a band aid being slowly pulled from her skin. She sighed feeling a twinge of annoyance as the climactic moment came and went. Her hand came up to knock again.

"I brought you dinner, you jerk," she yelled at the closed door. When the door whizzed open unexpectedly, Raven almost dumped the plate of spaghetti on the floor.

"No need to yell." Gar told her moodily. He stood rigidly at the door in a pair of comfortable looking jeans and a wrinkled shirt. His room was dark behind him although Raven could make out a messy bed, a pile of clothes on the floor and cluttered desk. She saw there were posters on the wall, though the room was in too much shadow for her to make them out. It had been at least a few years since she had seen the inside of his room despite the fact that he was always sneaking into hers.

"What? You want to come in?" His tone was more sarcastic than anything. Raven's eyes snapped back to his face and she felt herself blush.

"Just take your food, okay?" She told him, feeling embarrassed and annoyed by his bad mood. He didn't even look apologetic.

"Did Robin put you up to this?" He asked, mockingly. Raven's eyes widened in surprised.

"Since when did you become such an asshole?" He looked legitimately taken aback by her words, Raven thought. Gar scratched his head and gave a deep sigh. He looked up at her with a weary expression that betrayed some vulnerable side of him which Raven had only seen once before- that time he broke down and yelled at her in the hallway.

"I've made you cry twice now," he said sadly. "I guess I am an asshole."

Raven wasn't sure what to say at this. Was this his way of asking for forgiveness? She paused for a beat.

"Why are you hiding? Come out and eat with us." She held out his plate and he looked at it as if she were offering him poison.

"Or don't. Either way, feeling sorry for yourself won't fix anything." He opened his mouth as if to argue then seemed to reconsider. Instead, he shrugged and gave her a sheepish grin, a wordless apology. But there was still a melancholy look in his eyes which made Raven's chest tighten. And somehow, something within her wanted to forgive him.

"Geez, Raven. Since when did we switch places? I thought you were supposed to be the one locked up in your room." She smirked and dropped the plate which was only saved by Gar's quick reflexes.

"HEY! Do you know how hard it is to get spaghetti sauce out of the carpet!" But Raven was already making her way down the hallway.

"C'mon, loverboy." She called back at him. It wasn't long before she heard his quick footsteps.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you'd like. No promises sadly on when the next chapter will be out.


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